Gangland Killing in a Tree Stump


 One day I was sitting in the park soaking in the warmth of the sun. Nearby I saw two elderly men looking into a tree stump hollowed out by time and nature. Both men were leaning on canes for support. The taller man scratched the top of his bald head and said, “Looks like two bodies dumped here after a gangland killing. Notice! One body is face down. The other guy must have been begging for his life. Notice how he was hiding his face with his hands? Definitely a gangland killing.”

The other man shook his head. A breeze blew through the shoulder length of white hair covering his head. “No, no. Not a gangland killing. A birthday party. That’s not a body lying face down. It’s a little boy bending over a chocolate cake. He’s blowing out the candles. And the other guy? He's clapping his hands and singing Happy Birthday!” The two men argued back and forth until a nurse’s assistant escorted them back to the minibus. 

Curious, I walked over to the tree stump and peered into it to see what I could see. “My goodness!” I gasped. “He was right. But wait a minute . . . . . .”



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