This is my contribution to the Weekend Wordsmith prompt. Hope you like it!
“Damn things keep multiplying!” Roger swore.
Picking up the rake, he started back to work. His back was killing him and he had calluses on his hands. The torture had started early that morning when he opened the door and saw that the front yard was covered. I need to do something about this, he thought, before stepping back inside to read the paper.
Putting it off as long as possible, he sighed before putting the paper aside and getting into his work clothes. The next obstacle was finding the rake because he couldn’t remember exactly where he’d put it. He hit his head on a shelf, stubbed his toe on the grill, and banged his elbow on the work table, before finding the rake sitting pretty as you please in the corner.
That was three hours ago. What he thought would be a quick job was turning into an all day affair. His wife and kids would be home soon. They were all going to watch a movie after dinner. If he weren’t done, he’d never hear the end of it.
Pushing the last stack onto the pile, he heard the car roll into the driveway. Just in time, he thought, heading to the garage to put the rake up. I’ll burn them in the morning.
He heard the squeals before he saw them. “No!” he screamed, but it was too late. He watched as the jubilant children jumped in, threw, and wrecked total carnage on his lovely pile of leaves.