By Jaclyn Russek
Green leaves shiver and shake around me, inhaling and exhaling the life of the forest. Passing beneath a pine, I catch sight of yellow feathers and offer a wave to the warbler balancing above. His brows—if warblers have brows—downturn with disgust, and a cacophonous trill rings out, demanding, “Get out of my forest.”
“I’m only visiting,” I say. “You needn’t fear me.”
My fingertips trace the tree bark. I smile at the rugged, chocolate-colored beauty. “I’ll be gone soon.”
Wary black eyes loom over me.
The axe gathered in my hands, I nod once and chop the tree down.
At one with nature. Ironic and true.
Great idea, well executed