They were out there, the three of them, in the forest. Two were carrying axes over their shoulders, the sharp edges pointing back and away. They walked between the trees, dry leaves crunching beneath their boots on the forest floor.

“There’s one,” said Aleph, pointing out ahead of them.

The trio walked in the direction he had pointed. Twigs snapped under the heavy boots, undergrowth brushing against the thick canvas pants with each purposeful step. They walked in unison another twenty meters or so and then all stopped at a tree. It was completely white, as if the entire thing had been coated in plaster.

“Would’ve been nice to have another hand around,” Aleph said, “this one’s pretty thick.”

“That’s what she said, boss.”

“Jesus Christ, Larry.” Aleph shook his head and set down his axe. Their partner tried not to laugh as he propped his axe against the tree as well.

Aleph took a pair of worn leather work gloves from his back pocket and pulled them on. “We’ll take it right here,” he said, butting the axe against the white tree. “Sure could of used an extra hand with this one… What was wrong with the last guy again?”

“Not gay enough,” said Larry.

“Right.”

Aleph stepped back and struck the tree. After the blow, he waggled the blade free and their partner took his turn, striking the same spot. They went like that, back and forth, chipping away at it for some time until Aleph handed his axe to Larry.

“Hit it at an angle,” he said. “If we keep up the pace we can set the bitch free before dark.”

Larry took over and Aleph shook out his hands. They were vibrating from the repeated impact of the axe into the dense wood. He took off one of his gloves, reached into his pocket, and lit a cigarette.

“You alright, Simon?” asked Aleph.

“All good here, boss.”

“Alright, let me know when you’re ready.”

Watching the two, Aleph sucked hard on the cigarette, burning down the fag with an audible crackle, the ember glowed during the draw. He inhaled and sighed and thick smoke poured from his mouth and nostrils and dissipated into the forest like a spectre.

At the bottom, he stomped the cigarette into the dirt and, taking the axe, spelled Simon. He wondered how many there were like this, if they would ever be done. He struck the tree hard and again and again and watched as it detached itself from all it once knew.

---