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Tuesday tease

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Okay, since all one of you asked for it, I’m giving you just a hint of what I have on that thumb drive I mentioned a couple days ago. It’s a nasty little tale of love and wood chippers. Or at least that’s what I hope it’ll be.

The head was a problem.

The rest had been easy enough–a few quick cuts with the chain saw, into the wood chipper, and then into the bone pit. But the head was just too big. Too hard. And it wasn’t a trophy head. Something else would have to be done with it.

Gert squatted down near it, considering her options. Death was nothing new on the island; she’d dealt with it time and again, and would many more times before she herself faced that last journey. It was messy and painful at times, but it was the natural end of every life. Sometimes, too, death had to be hurried, and while she always felt a twinge of regret when she had to end a life, Gert had never thought it was wrong. Unfortunate, often, but never wrong. Not until now. This death had unsettled her, but she didn’t quite know why. After all, this was just another wayward creature intruding on her home and livelihood, too stubborn or dense to take heed to the repeated warnings she’d given it to leave. She was right to defend what was hers.

A tiny pinprick of pain brought her back to herself. Flies, drawn by the scent of blood. Gert brushed one away from her face and followed its flight toward the head. She horrified to see her own hand on it, absently stroking its thick pelt of hair. Snatching her hand back with a cry, she abruptly stood, grabbed an old 5-gallon bucket nearby, and upended it over the ghastly lump. Her gorge rose, and she ran.

She made it to the outhouse just in time.

So whaddya think? More? Less? Never again?

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About Kymm

I'm a reader and writer and knitter, a sister, daughter, and friend. This blog is my letter, of love and hate, frustration and joy, rants and praises, to a great big world. You can read it if you want to.

4 responses »

  1. Would you PLEASE get out of my head, Kymm? LOL this is too funny. Sometime last week, the neighbor-on-the-right’s grandchildren were in her driveway playing music at 4:30 a.m. Said driveway is about three inches from my bedroom window. This wouldn’t have been a huge problem, since we’re night owls anyway, except that the neighbor-across-the-street decided to have a tree taken out, complete with chainsaw and woodchipper at 8 a.m…..I was about ready to stuff said neighbors into said woodchipper.

    Reply
    • There was a case in Iowa some years ago in which a wood chipper was involved. I’m not finding any info on it right now–odd, because it was a sensational case–but I’ll bet the head was a problem there, too.

      Hope the neighbors have kept things a little quieter. Yelling out the window can be therapeutic, ya know.

      Reply
      • Well, it probably would be more therapeutic than what I did, which was calling the cops to ask if the local noise ordinance included chainsaws and woodchippers. The reply? Hysterical laughter from the desk sergeant and the information that it only applies if said chainsaws and woodchippers are being operated at 4:30 a.m. or something.

      • You can be noisy around here starting at 7:00 a.m. I know that having lived through a good number of construction seasons, and those builders are very punctual. They build crap houses, but they’re on time.

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