A Perfect Morning for It.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Story about the way people deal with nature without thinking about any consequences.

Submitted: July 27, 2017

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Submitted: July 27, 2017

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A Perfect Morning for It.

 

“This is perfect,” said Leona Tassell to her husband when they enjoyed the early rays of sunshine on the deck outside their country retreat. “I love the unspoilt beauty of the heather and the forest in this early light. Buying this second house is the best thing we ever did.”
Trevor Tassell stood behind his pretty wife wrapped his arms around her, and put his chin on the top of her head. “It is beauty as it should be,” he said. “Perfect and just meant for you. I’m glad we bought this land. Now you can be sure that they can’t touch it. There’s no logging company that is going to strip that landscape. Its splendor is just there for you.” He turned his wife gently around and kissed her.
“Let’s go for a walk,” suggested Leona. “Perhaps we can see that badger again.”
“It may be somewhere else today,” Trevor answered. “It has to eat, you know. But we can take a walk. But not such a long one as yesterday, I’d like to do something else today too.” He took his wife by the hand and the couple walked along the narrow path across the heather into the forest. This time they were unlucky, the badger didn’t show itself, but they still enjoyed the almost pristine woodland.
“I can’t understand why people always want to destroy our woods,” Leona said as they rested, sitting together on a fallen tree trunk.
“That’s easy to explain,” her husband said. “To us it’s a place of serenity, but to others it’s just a pile of planks waiting to be processed at some sawmill. To another bunch it’s just fuel, something to put into their log fire. They all want to take something else from the woods.”
“But that’s shocking,” Leona said. “It’s so selfish.”
“It is,” but you can’t change human nature.
“But that’s ridiculous,” Leona replied, anger creeping into her voice. “We should leave nature alone. We’ve got no right to mess with it.”
“Don’t get angry ,dear. I totally agree with you. That’s why I bought you this, so no-one can mess with it.”
Leona’s anger subsided again, Then the couple walked slowly back to the house. They even managed to spot a couple of squirrels sprinting along some branches. When they reached the house there were no more thoughts about people destroying woodlands.
“I’ll go for a short spin,” said Trevor after he had finished a cup of Leona’s special coffee, a dark, sweet drink with a hint of syrup and a dash of Bourbon, just the way he liked it. He was glad that their life in the country was perfect. It was just a shame that they could only get up there in the weekends.
“Be careful, don’t get hurt,” Leona said to her husband.
“I always am,” he replied, and went to the stairs that led him into the garage below the living quarters. He opened the door to the special garage where he kept his motorcycles, and switched on the light. With pride he took in the three dirt bikes that gleamed in the neon light. He felt excited.  Today was the day he would create himself a new, difficult track. Perhaps he should make the fallen log they had used as a bench that morning one of its features. Then he put on his helmet and gloves and used the remote control to open the garage door. His heart started to race as the pristine heather and forest came into view.
Damn, he thought, he would tear the place up.
Then he kick started his bike and roared into the heather.
 


© Copyright 2017 Bert Broomberg. All rights reserved.

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