dead tree

Nobody could say where the tree had come from.  It just showed up one day.  A dead tree against the far wall of the complex.  Planted firmly in the ground but definitely dead.

They all agreed it hadn’t been there the day before.  Or at least, none of them could remember it.  And it was in such a weird spot in the complex that none of them had pictures they could compare to.  They all just felt like it was new. 

But, if it hadn’t been there before, why would someone go through the trouble of planting a dead tree?

If it had always been there, why were they all surprised to see it?

Things like that did happen in their complex.  One day a couch would show up and the next day it would be gone.  Sometimes it would be beds or a desk.  There was even a refrigerator once.  Those were all easily explainable though, someone offloading junk, and often were gone within a couple days, someone deciding that junk was treasure.  A planted tree was much harder to explain.  They why and how of it were beyond any logic they could come up with. 

Eventually the chatter died down and they went back about their days with a shrug.  Maybe it would disappear too.  That would be interesting.  Was it someone’s junk and would it become someone else’s treasure? 

Time would tell.  In the meantime, they were up one dead tree.



I was drawn to the sharpness of these leaves, the tiny points that will scratch the unsuspecting, the unwary.

Life is so interesting sometimes…

Come find rest in the shade of my leafy branches but don’t get too close. I’m here for you but only to a point. This is a common theme in nature, supporting others while protecting self.

I’ll leave it to you to draw any parallels to our current lives in quarantine.

a limb for a limb

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“I’m really sawed off!”

“Why?  What happened?”

“My parents sawed off the lowest limbs of my favorite climbing tree.”

“What?  Really?  Why?”

“The neighbor was sawed off about the mess of leaves in his yard.”

“That seems silly.”

“I know, and I offered to clean up the leaves but my parents just went and sawed off the limbs instead.  They didn’t even give me a chance.”

“That seems unfair.  They could have at least…  Hey… what’s that?  What are you going to do?”

“Oh, this?  This is my sawed off shotgun…”


Well, that takes “an eye for an eye” to a whole new level, doesn’t it?  I wonder if he was going after his parents or his neighbor…  Either way, I’m creeped out and I wrote it!  Silly, silly, me.  I guess that’s just what happens sometimes when the InMonster attacks:


The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.


No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts: