Tuesday, 4 February 2014

100 Worder Stump Road





100 Worder

David Hook

Stump Road

  Stale black coffee, no sugar


The forest. Stump Road. Leafless trees copped and skeletal slumber and dream of spring.

A rabbit, bloated and mouldered. Flies feasting from above and worms, likewise, from below. 
A bench, rotted and decayed, cloaked in a shroud of ivy sits beneath an ancient oak. Initials carved within a heart. 
A squirrel chatters a warning and a crow reciprocates with a mournful caw.  The man places a single rose upon the recently disturbed soil beneath the bench as a Muntjac bears witness from a thicket. Clouds obscure the watery sun banishing the man to shadow. 
A susurrus breeze, one word, 'Murderer!



About the Author
David lives on the edge of Epping Forest having been raised on a council estate in London. Recently resigned from a stressful job after twenty years he finds that his mind is decluttering and is now able to concentrate on hobbies and interests. He hopes, despite a crippling fear of grammar and punctuation, that writing will become one of them.

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