“You can’t leave that tree here,” the guy yelled at the three of us as we lowered the tree to the curb in front of his house. “The refuse company collected trees on this block on yesterday.”
I looked at Danny. “I thought you said collection of Christmas trees was not until Friday,” I said.
“Well, I guess I was wrong,” Danny said. “Let’s go back, wait until it’s dark tonight, and then dump it in the lot behind five and dime. No one will know it was us.”
“Great way to start off the new year,” I said, sarcastically.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Dale Rogerson.