Short Story Saturdays

A story about a lumberjack.


The Hunt

A lone shack on a mountain sat in the snow. Smoke gently wafting from it's chimney. The scene was almost peaceful. Except for the loud crash of the door swinging open. A bear of a man barreled out, grabbed an axe and set out into the woods.

The lumberjack wandered through the woods with his trusty husky at his side. The snow that had fallen last night blanketed the mountainside in white. The sky was a bright blue dotted with a few clouds. It was a beautiful day.

The lumberjack treaded deep into the woods, his axe in hand, hat pulled down, and flannel shirt buttoned up. His dog at his side rushed around smelling each and every tree they passed. He scratched his thick beard as he carefully observed his surroundings. He was on a mission. He was out hunting.

After a moment of careful concentration he moved swiftly up the path. His long strides leaving his dog scrambling to catch up. The snow, that came to his knee at least, was plowed out of the way as he soldiered on unhindered.

He stopped and veered hard right. He trusty hound skidded to keep track of it's master. He kept his breakneck pace as he wound through the trees deeper and deeper into the forest. His breathe clung to the air curling around his nose like an angered dragon.

He picked up his pace. His dog barked to keep up. He marched forward, gripping his axe tightly. He could tell he was getting close.

At last he came to stop in a clearing. His husky anxious at his side. He stared out at a single tree. He raised his axe. And in one fell swoop he chopped to down.

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around its trunk. He found his Christmas Tree.