The old tree towers above the quiet Park Slope side street, and its roots extend, lava-like, over the curb and concrete walk in huge, thick, lumpy folds and ropes, embedded in which can be seen chunks of flat, gray stone, torn-up remnants of the antique slate sidewalks that were once de rigueur for the neighborhood.
"A time lapse of those roots growing would be hilarious," Katie says contemplatively. "Humanity is pointless."
"Well, it certainly is superfluous," I agree.
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