The Crossroads

As the sun goes down, he sees an old man sitting on the stump of what used to be his tree.

He doesn’t wish to be seen, so he isn’t.

He would like to kill the geezer who long ago tried to chop down his tree. But he can’t. He can’t do much besides make noise and, if he tries real hard, rattle things.

Now something draws him toward the house. Something strong. He drifts out of the trees.

No one sees him because he doesn’t wish to be seen.

Not just yet, anyway.