Mowing the lawn with scrambled words

I wrote this first as a chronological story about two men mowing the lawn. The lines were then scrambled to create something more abstract and non-linear.

the lawn

The older man wears orange headphones so he can work without interference. He cannot hear the bird that imitates the sound of music above the noise of the whipper-snipper. He suspects the woman will find some fault with his work. He is only human, trying to mimic the birds. He wears ear muffs to protect his ears from “too short, too long, too close, not close enough”.

The morning is still and warm. A clear winter’s day. His young accomplice wears no protection. He is little more than a boy. She is never satisfied with anything. The day might be mistaken for summer dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. The boy’s job is to disappear behind the house on the hill, underneath a sun that hangs low in the sky. Inside the coldness of the shadows he pushes the lawnmower. He pushes away the silence for a few minutes, until he moves into a place half in sunlight.

Her gaze moves from one side of the lawn to the other. The low gurgle of the mower begins again, half in shade because it is too hot. Her blackness isn’t home this morning so her minions are free. Someone is whistling. The older man’s pants suck up the heat making his knees burn.

{photo source}

About KatieP

Embracing my midlife sexy while exploring modern love & relationships • Devoted to all things beautiful • Master of Arts in creative writing & non-fiction writing