Whack!
Jessica swings the axe and curses Wendy, her thirteen year old daughter. She’s in her room sulking, as usual. An annoying noise she calls music escapes to the backyard where Jessica continues her therapy.
Whack!
She takes another swing, this one for ten-year-old Albert, who continues to whine about not getting the right baseball mitt for his birthday. He’s not a catcher. What do I know about baseball? His dad goes to the games. He’s the one who bought the glove. “A guy thing,” he said.
Whack!
Speaking of . . . Jack's no angel, moping around the house all weekend complaining he’s bored. Jessica offered him a to do list to help fill in his time. 1. Rake the leaves. 2. Mow the lawn. 3. Plug the hole in the fence so our terrier Frankie doesn’t sneak out and bring home a new friend, or worse friends.
“I just remembered,” Jack says and trots out the door to meet up with Max, his high school buddy, for a beer. So much for his husband of the year trophy.
Whack!
Jessica's never swung an axe before. She didn’t know they owned one until she went to get a rake. It is a great way to rid one’s mind of negativity. Much better than raking leaves.
“Mom, ” Wendy yells from her bedroom window. “Mr. Roberts called. He said he’s coming over to help and that you shouldn’t do any more chopping until he gets here. He said you’re doing it wrong.”
Whack!
What could that old buttinsky want?
Whack!
Jessica takes one more swing, moves a few paces away, and hears a loud prolonged groan as the tree falls in the opposite direction she thought it would.
Bio:
Jim Harrington lives in Huntersville, NC, with his wife and two dogs. His stories have appeared in The Yard, Short-Story.me, Ariel Chart, Spank The Carp, Flash Fiction Magazine, and others. More of his works can be found at https://jpharrington.blogspot.com.