Today’s post is a flash fiction story…

Everyone in Little Pewsey knew of the feud between next-door neighbours Arnold Stopes and Bernard Shrigley, which had raged for more than fifty years, although few could say what had started it. Born within months of each other in adjoining cottages in Havelock Terrace, Arnie and Bernie had been walked together in prams, begun school on the same day, attended cubs and later, scouts and had their collective ears boxed for scrumping apples. They’d shared sweets, the Beano, secrets and girlfriends.

Both keen gardeners, they nevertheless adhered to strict individual notions for what constituted an ideal garden, most of which conflicted. Over the years, these conflicts had escalated to a point where verbal communication had ceased, to be replaced by physical acts, that is to say, retribution.

When Arnold’s magnificent flowering cherry tree had the audacity to extend its boughs over the hedge that formed the border between their properties, casting a shadow over Bernard’s patio, Bernard took his shiny loppers and hacked off the offending branches, thus decimating the graceful symmetry of the tree. Thereafter, on sunny afternoons, Arnold made sure to give Bernard’s patio a liberal dousing during watering sessions. Bernard’s mongrel dog, Tinker was fond of plunging through the hedge to dig holes in Arnold’s cabbage patch, provoking Arnold to retaliate by cultivating a luxuriant weed patch next to Bernard’s raised vegetable beds.

It was on a warm, balmy September evening that Arnold, straightening up from his labour of lifting potatoes, felt a sharp paintravel along his arm before tumbling to the ground and breathing his last, watched by his neighbour, who went to bed, fell asleep and was never to wake again.

Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com