This is my entry for the 
’s 31 Sentences contest, round 23
The early morning chill seeped into his bones. The city rested peacefully. The dirty flashes of light shone under the streetlights of a desolate street. Anyone would rather be tucked up warmly. Maybe comfortably drinking a hot cup of coffee at home, but that wasn't for old Hank. He’d rather be at the foot of the old oak, the only vestige of nature in this insensitive sea of concrete.
Scratches and squeals painted the twilight. Rats happily gnawing at the garbage bags piled up on the corners, whose greed wasn't unlike many he knew.
Dawn woke up the city. The usual shouts, horns, brakes, and sirens soon deafened the peace. But it was the trucks' roar and bulldozer's rumble which disturbed Hank.
Old Hank gritted his teeth and made sure the chain was as firm as possible, it was time to fight for his convictions.
The baker opened the doors of his shop as usual. The smell of freshly baked bread flew over the chitchat of the workers and foreman.
Whatever happened they would have to pass over his dead body to knock down his oak tree.
"All right, Grandpa, you'd better get out of the way now; we need to get that tree down before noon"
"Make me"
Hank frowned, crossed his arms, and stood still; the foreman lifted his helmet and scratched his head, snorted impatiently, and gestured to a couple of workers who grabbed Hank by force. Although senile, his arms still offered great resistance but a third one used a heavy-duty cutting tool and broke the chain like a cracker, making his efforts useless.
Hank was immediately subdued and before he knew it he was biting the dust under the weight of two workers, yet his loud curses caught people's attention. Soon there was a crowd interested in what was going on, but they were only there for entertainment.
The foreman took advantage of the audience’s laughter and mockery to start his dirty job; the chainsaws woke up thirsty for wood and the spectators howled.
"Ah-ooooh!"
"Don't worry, it'll be over soon," whispered Hank's ear.
Tears of anger ran down the old man's dirty cheeks; once again nature was losing its battle to the coldness of progress and greed. The great tree was finally felled and cut into pieces, which were destined to create more useless products to satisfy society’s whim.
The crowd went back to its business and soon the whole thing was forgotten.
Hank, disheartened, was coldly abandoned in the street; astonished, he felt the tenderness of a young woman's hands putting a small acorn in his hands.
“Don't worry; it knew you did your best; it left you a gift in its last breath," sweet words soothed his anguish; "forgive humanity; they're doomed by their own fears"
When Hank opened his eyes, the clarity of a sun that did not burn his eyes showed him a large meadow next to a valley full of familiar-looking people.
Greeted him cheerfully.
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