Her Arms Reach For The Sky
I still remember how she screamed when I started to chop her. Her begging sobs changed to vile curses and then to animal shrieks. I’d have gone deaf if I didn’t have my iPod with me!
Good for me there was no one else in the forest when I killed. I took my time, from pieces to chunks and then to tiny tiny bits, till she was all mushy goo. I dug a hole near the tree and poured her in. It’s a good comforting feeling to know that she is dead now. Chopped, minced and buried under that tree.
Last summer I took our Kathy on a picnic to that place. I ‘watered’ the tree, but hey, I never told you this ok! Though, I must admit it felt peaceful, in more ways than one.
I saw the tree, its branches all raped dead by winter, naked and withered, reaching out for the sky like arms of some anorexic monster.
Some days, I think I can still hear her screams in the wind, but maybe I just need some new ear buds for my iPod.
[The writer is currently fighting a new job, life and the forces of darkness all while trying to keep two blogs A Story A Day and Poetry well-fed and cared for. So far, he is winning over life, how long remains to be seen.]