A Fable

crook-roof

A woodcutter was working in the forest. He swung his axe without ceasing, for he was a proud man who did not believe in weariness.

Soon, he had felled every tree within reach until all that was left was The Ancient Giant. Generations of woodcutters had refrained from cutting this colossal tree, which had a girth the size of a moderate tower.

He felt no such qualm. Just as the sun set,  the mighty oak fell with  an enormous crash.

In its stump sat a curious little man, arms folded in consternation.

“You’ve made your bed,” he said.

 

Friday Fictioneers

15 thoughts on “A Fable

  1. Like any good fable, I see an appropriately ominous end to a person showing poor moral judgement. Ah, if only the bad guys got their just desserts so predictably in real life.

  2. Great fable, I presume you were commenting on the result of the election but, I do know a farmer who removed a copse from the middle of a field that all his predecessors had left alone, and then wondered why his fields flooded every time we got a heavy shower.

Don't just stand there.