The leaves shook on the old oak tree, but there was no wind. No gust to send the boughs bouncing. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal. But it had always been that way. Old man Johnson stood in his back yard staring at the tree, pulling at his tight, curly, red hair. This was a daily activity. Standing and yelling at the tree.
“Stop bouncing, ya fool tree. Ain’t even windy!”
But that did not stop the tree. Nothing could stop the tree. No amount of old man frustration. No secret spell or incantation. Why the tree moved is unimportant. There are some things in life that can’t be explained. Like how an old man can spend half his day yelling at a tree.
On the day he chopped the tree down, the sky turned black. Birds hid in the trees. Animals trembled. There was utter silence in the neighborhood. Until the old man started to weep.
#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...