At eighty-one years old, Louis decided it was time to do something he had been meaning to do for thirty years. He was going to cut down the damned oak tree in his front yard.
It was a blight on the entire neighborhood, and it needed to go.
Louis pulled the cord on his chainsaw once, twice, three times. On the fourth pull, a searing pain lanced through his chest. He slumped to the ground, gasping for breath.
Lying in the grass, staring up into the twisted branches of the oak, Louis thought to himself, “God, I hate that tree.”
As a police officer for twenty-five years, G. Allen Wilbanks wrote traffic and crime reports to pay the bills while writing horror and dark fiction in his free time to stay sane. In 2016, he retired from real life to devote his full attention to fantasy.
I loved that one.
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In my head when I read your first sentence I thought to myself that this guy is going to die somehow cutting this tree down.
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The silent revenge of the tree!
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