Jen finished stacking the wood beside the cottage.
“There,” said Keith. “I better head out, it’s already getting dark.”
He swung the axe, burying it into the large tree stump, parking it there for later use.
They walked down to the dock and Jen handed Keith his backpack after he had jumped down into the boat.
“You sure you’re okay?” Keith asked her again.
“Yes, this is just what I need, you’re cute though,” she said leaning down for one last kiss.
Keith started the engine and began backing out.
“I will see you in one week! I love you!” he called over the rattle of the motor.
He gunned the engine and made the long wide turn out of the channel disappearing from view.
Jen needed this week of isolation to focus on her writing, no boat, no phone, no television, and no internet.
She turned and walked up the ramp toward the cottage. She thought she saw something move in her peripheral vision and glanced toward the thick brush behind the shed. She froze, unable to take another step. The axe was not where Keith had just left it.
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