| The Marriage Tree |
| By Sherri D. Smith |
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He was more than irritated with me this time. This time he didn't take it out on the cat or the dog. He didn't yell at the kids. This time he went to the shed and brought out the chain saw. He began cutting limb by limb. |
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After he cut every limb he could reach from the ground, he made one base cut. The bald cypress I had planted on our wedding day came down. He hauled it up onto two sawhorses and cut it in half. It was easier for him now with the tree on the sawhorse. He could saw away his frustration with our marriage. |
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He hated having the kids and me in his life. He hated seeing me in the morning. He would glare at me over coffee. As he cut up the tree I could feel him cutting deep into our marriage. He hated himself as much as he hated me. Milwaukee's Best was the only way he could deal...it was the only way he ever could. |
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He mellowed out as the evening wore on. Drinking and smoking his Marlboros in the dark. He became lost in thoughts that excluded me. The only light in the house was from the smoky fire of our marriage tree. |
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