Some things you don’t miss when they are gone. You felt they were great when you made them, but after a while you tire of them being around. But not this mirror. It was sold at an exhibition I had. I miss it now. It has a sad story.

It was made from a pencil pine that was blocking the suns view of my solar panels and so I reasoned needed to die for the greater good. I realise now that the killing of the tree will make fuck all difference to slowing down the transformation of our planet into Venus. So the tree died a pointless death and I have become one of them. A murderer of living things for personal gain.

It haunts me still. Sometimes late at night when the children are asleep and the wind is blowing through the branches and leaves of the surviving trees around my house, I can hear them whispering, “murderer, assassin, you killed our brother”. I will carry the guilt and regret of it to my grave.

On the other hand, I got quite a bit of cash out of it and I’m paying a bit less on my electricity bill so its not like its all doom and gloom.