Let the Tree Talk: Witty Confessions Beneath the Branches

I believe trees share history. Especially this one! Witty, warm, and wickedly funny, this is your passport to a forgotten world where the gin is flowing, the gossip is scandalous, and the trees? Oh, the trees have opinions.
A wise old tree. A British Club in Yangon. A parade of eccentric characters whispering, shouting, and confessing beneath its boughs. The tree listens... and tells all.
Nestled in the heart of a once-grand colonial club in war-torn Yangon, an ancient tree has stood sentinel for generations. Its branches have heard it all - flirtations, fibs, failures, and fantastically funny secrets. Now, at last, the tree is ready to talk.
With all the charm of a classic British farce and the dry wit of a well-aged whisky, Let the Tree Talk is a delightful collection of entirely fictitious conversations - overheard (and hilariously interpreted) by a cheeky, truth-loving tree. These are tales of pompous old majors, hopeless romantics, flirtatious widows, drunken philosophers, misplaced fishing experts, and very questionable wine connoisseurs.
But behind the laughter lies something deeper. The tree knows what humans often forget: that trees hold memories. They remember history, carry the scars of war, and stand tall through every change. In a place that has seen hardship and upheaval, this tree offers one thing we all need - the healing power of laughter. I could think of many subtitles such as Fictional Follies Under the Old Tree's Watch emphasising made-up mayhem told by an old, all-knowing observer. "Tales Too Silly to Be True (But the Tree Insists They Are)" wherein the tree is cheeky and takes on the narrator tone. These entirely Made-Up Confessions... as Remembered by a Tree, are what was needed in a war-torn country where humanitarians play their part and need down-time. But certainly not as exaggerated as these scenes evoke.
A renowned surgeon from the 13th Century named Henri de Mondeville,
coined the phrase "Laughter is the best medicine". He used humour in his practice and found telling patients jokes actually eased their pain and sped up their recovery process. Laughter enhances your intake of oxygen-rich air,
stimulates your heart, lungs and muscles, and increases the endorphins that are released by your brain.
Here it is, combined with my intuitive belief that trees do listen and we as humans can tap into their wisdom and laugh at ourselves. This ancient tree comforted me during difficult times and instead of sharing true stories, far too insensitive, the tree became a narrator of humorous fiction:
So listen closely, dear reader, and grin,
I've got juicy tidbits tucked deep within.
This book? It's my way of sharing the fun-
The tales of this club, under the sun.
So come, take a look, and don't take it too seriously,
I'm just a tree, but I've seen it all mysteriously!