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| >> Static Item >> Short Story >> Writing >> ID #1367761 |
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The blisters on his hands stung, but the tree had to come down. He swung the axe and it bit deep into the soft wood. Chips flew wide; tomorrow there would be white flakes of Leylandii spread over the lawn. They had to understand, this was serious, he wanted the sun back in his garden.
© Copyright 2007 Mike Day (UN: mikeday at Writing.Com).
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