Well! That’s another scratch in my old bark, Lady thought, as she pruned the cherry tree. Mr. Bittercress’ comment cut her to the core, again.
The branch revealed tight rings, like an echo. She imagined her torso chopped in two and Harry’s hurts revealed in her dendrochronology – stiff scar tissue in her muscles from the 1999 incident; arteries dammed with sclerosis from a year of impotence, (a terrible drought!); an unhealed rib from when he briefly left her for another woman. It was lovely wood though, despite its irregularities.
“Har-ry!”, she called. Holding the saw, she went looking for her beloved.