Please prune the tree, I asked.
That’s all. Not demolish. Not decapitate. Just trim.
What could go wrong, I thought?
And then, to my deepest regret, I went out.
I arrived home to this scene of wanton devastation.
He had succumbed to the power of the Chain Saw and went all Texas Massacre on the flora.
Finally, exhausted, he laid down the offending weapon and had a beer.
Leaving the dismembered pieces of his slain enemy littered on the ground.
This, I was informed, was entirely my fault because I left him unsupervised with a power tool.
Note: This story is a work of fiction and in no way resembles my husband at all. Really, he didn’t do this. My father did though, to a Chinese Elm Tree.
About Friday Fictioneers
Each Friday, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, posts a photo prompt for a 100-word story.
Have a look at come of this week’s entries for some inspiration.