Blackberries

The blackberries had overgrown Wayne’s entire yard, twining their malevolent thorns between fences and over trees, consuming the patio furniture and even reaching into the house.

Weed killer did nothing, and his pallid attempts to trim it only resulted in broken clippers and a severe rash. He found a Craigslist ad for yard clearing and told the man his problem.

Wayne expected him to bring some kind of heavy clipping machinery, but what arrived was a pickup truck full of machete-wielding Hondurans. They leaped out and attacked the blackberries with warlike efficiency, immune to the scratches, laughing as they worked.

 

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