Kevin was a private man. For a while, he had a wife, Alice, but his box hedge was his obsession. Every evening, there would be Kevin, watering, pruning, coaxing each branch into position until the hedge seemed more fortress than bush. Alice offered to help, but he’d growl and raise his secateurs threateningly. Alice feared for her life.
In time Kevin died, and Alice returned, to destroy her rival at last.
The bobcat laboured, uprooting the hedge, while Alice watched. Suddenly there was a sharp, splintering crunch, and an explosion of banknotes erupted skyward.
That night, Alice toasted Kevin’s memory.
This is my offering for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. I think this week I’ve achieved my personal best for late submission. I hope there might still be one or two tenacious readers out there with sufficient stamina remaining to pay a visit and read my story.
Read the other stories here.