Forgive me, but I hate that damn tree!

  • Nonfiction
  • I saw the young man standing under this small tree*

My wife and I had given up the city life of New York to move to a gentle quiet college town in Maryland, it’s a small town outside the city of Baltimore, the town is called Towson. Towson, Maryland is really a neat little town with great Coffee shops and a host of hip restaurants where college kids love to hang out. Almost everyone has a book under their arm and Barnes & Noble Book store sits right in the middle of downtown. This was the life I always dreamed of living, in a small town where the pace is slow and polite. On Saturdays my wife and I would go to our favorite Coffee shop do breakfast , from there we’d go to Barnes & Noble and from Barnes & Noble we would go to Nordstrom to purchase new shoes for my wife. Sundays were lazy days for us, we would just stay home watch movies, make popcorn and if there was a football game or basketball game we would watch it. One Sunday morning in early fall I got up early to do my three mile walk to the grocery store just to buy the Sunday paper. It was a beautiful brisk morning and the sun was just about to break yet there was a feeling of foreboding in the air. Before I left my wife was still in the bed asleep, safe and sound. Yet there was this feeling something I would see something very tragic. Yet I pressed on.

I finally arrived at the grocery store and I bought the Sunday paper folded it under my arms and headed back home; I looked at my watch and thought about my wife again. I wondered if she had gotten up and started breakfast or was she still asleep under the sheet. A police car, and then an ambulance raced past me with lights flashing and siren blaring. The thing I feared was waiting for me, as I got closer to my home I saw a police officer standing next to the body of the young white man I spoke to earlier before I left the house to go to the grocery store. I saw the young man standing under this small tree*.

I never saw the young man before that morning and he seemed to have alot on his mind. I spoke to him and he smiled back at me. Now lay his motionless body on the ground, this young man was well dressed and well groomed and he wore a watch.

I was stunned.

He’s gone!

But, why? Why?

Another police car pulled up and one of the officer’s placed a white sheet over the dead body. I was transfixed. I felt as if it was all just a bad dream. My mouth was dry and my hands did tremble slightly as I stuck my key in the door to my home. My wife was still asleep. I dare not wake her.

I removed my clothes and climbed into the bed next to her. Her body was warm and as she breathed in her chest slightly raised. I put my arms around her and she smiled never opening her eyes.

Why? Why? Why?

Why did I leave this morning to buy the paper when I knew something bad was lurking. I never again went out on a Sunday morning to buy the paper.

Forgive me, but I hate that damn tree!

Charles Micheaux





Someone is always there to talk, somebody cares.

Author: Charles Micheaux

Charles Micheaux is an orator & philosopher. Charles has been a professional speaker since September 9th 1997. His highest honor is receiving a personal letter from Rosa Parks for his work in Baltimore, Maryland. Charles was a contributor at Yahoo for three-years.

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