Mine
By Christopher Munroe
I’m sick and tired of telling you kids to stay out of my
fields.
You trample corn, you dig up carrots, you treat the land
like it’s your personal playground. And I’m sick of it.
Thus, I’ve buried explosives just under the ground. I know
they’ll also destroy my crops, but the loss of a few crops to keep out
intruders is, to me, a small price to pay, and I’ll pay it gladly.
So: Stay out. Starting today, trespassers will explode.
Respect my property or die.
It’s not an unreasonable demand.
They’re not your fields after all.
They’re mine.
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