Wednesday, April 9, 2014


Each day Forrest would eagerly scan the flower beds in front of his home. Standing a broad six-foot-seven, it was hard to miss his extra large frame.
            Despite his size, he possessed an unusual kindness and dexterity, especially when it came to living things. He had several cats, two dogs, goldfish galore, and even owned a pair of parakeet.
            Most of all though, he loved plants. Trees, shrubs, house plants, wild plants, annuals, perennials—Forrest loved them all.
            If ever a person had been appropriately named, it was him.
            He strolled to the beds at the end of the driveway. Using his large hands he proceeded to clear aside accumulated piles of snow plow cinders. This gave the rounded, waxy tips of daffodil shoots an added boost to be the first of his children to bloom. Being at the edge of the curb put their yellow blooms in the front row of his property.

            Leo couldn’t stand it anymore.
            His girlfriends had dumped him after finding out he'd been fired for the fourth time. Worst of all, he still had all sorts of his things still at her house.
            As he pulled out of her driveway, Leo felt growing unease about what he should do next. He hadn’t talked to his parents in three years and his sister now lived halfway across the country.
            Leo suddenly remembered that his old pal, Skip, had offered him a place to crash if he was ever put out.
            Without a second thought, he pulled out his phone to shoot him a text.
            Only glancing downward, Leo never saw the giant of a man crouching by the curb side, nor did he see anything else ever again.
            Leo in his rush, on top of forgetting most of his stuff, had also forgotten his seatbelt.

            That day he learned—almost immediately after taking the large man's life— in the harshest way possible, how instant karma can really be.

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