Caw

The sun shone fast and hard. Birds had long since flown away, chattering excitedly. The smell of sweat, and that of something sour wrestled in the air. The grass fluttered, heavy with the anticipation of being watered. Something dark hovered over the air on this bright, warm, sunny day.

Hack, hack, hack.

A man swung an axe at a tree, chopping it, splinters flying everywhere. The axe was sharp and silver, gleaming in the sunlight. The man had a beautiful smile, he wiped the sweat off his blond brows.

Hack, hack, hack.

The tree groaned and creaked. He needed the wood though. So it had to go. A big splinter. With the next hack, his axe got stuck in the tree, he was maybe a fourth of the way through. The axe was firmly stuck in the tree, a deep cut. He planted his feet on the ground, grabbed the red handle, and leaned back and pulled, his muscles straining beneath his shirt.

The sun shone on the son of man.

He wiped some more sweat off his brows, and strained as he pulled the tight shirt off himself. His back was muscled, his arms veiny. His stomach flat, his chest hairy.

Dug his feet in, different place as told by the indentations in the ground, and strained and pulled. The muscles on his back rippled. His face turned red. It slid out in one smooth motion, and he fell back unceremoniously.

Taking only the smallest of breaks, he went back to chopping.

Hack, hack, hack.

He was getting tired.

Hack, hack, hack.

With each hack came a grunt. At the end of the three, a gasp as he pulled oxygen into his straining lungs.

The woods were silent otherwise.

Hack, hack, hack.

The sun shone bright and hard. Clouds passed over it for the briefest of moments, he stopped, axe in the trunk of the tree, and stared at the blue sky, a shadow cast over it. His smile was wide and his grin stretching from side to side, even though he was sweating all over, the hairs on his chest wet, moisture streaking down his back, droplets falling from his locks of hair as he moved. The smile was wide, beautiful. The eyes were big and intelligent, the forehead wide.

The clouds passed.

Hack, hack, hack.

The tree began to groan.

Another few hacks, and it would fall. His job was almost done. He felt for the men who were paid to do this for a living. It was necessary for his purposes.

Hack, hack, hack. Birds began to caw in the distance. Something was off about it. He couldn't quite place it.

Hack, hack, hack.

The tree groaned, the forest felt like it were swaying. Maybe it was just him. The exhaustion.

The cawing grew louder. Shadows circled around him as he lifted the axe for another attempt.

Hack, hack, hack.

The tree groaned and buckled. He stepped safely aside and watched it slowly make its way off the trunk. It fell with a mighty thud and a squish and a squelch as if a ketchup bottle were squeezed suddenly, all at once. A crimson spray in all directions, and crimson mist hung in the air. It fell on more than just the ground. The dust settled, leaves floating softly on the wind as they fell.

A click, a whoosh, a flame. He dropped the lighter and then looked up and smiled.

“Sorry boys, nothing for you today.”

The vultures cawed as their dinner lit up.

The man walked away, hands in pockets.