An out-of-work man takes a job as a tree and finds that it suits him.
I like how this story leans into its weirdness and lets a coherent world form around it without comment. At first I imagined that the gangs of tree-men were just men standing around pretending to be trees, until the teens in love carved their initials in the protagonist’s bark; then I thought that they might be wearing elaborate costumes, until it became clear that the tree-man was a tree at home as well as at work; and when he goes on holiday and strikes up a conversation with a palm tree, it appears that this is not an occupation isolated to the parks of London, but is in fact the way that trees work everywhere. Strange and affecting.