A tree has many years to come to grips with itself, but can be felled in a moment. Rudy may still live many lives, but each of those lives are at the behest of the logger. Will he burn as firewood, Will he too become the handle of a tool, will he lay the frame to a concrete pour? Perhaps all three, perhaps none.

But Rudy doesn’t know, he can only speculate on the horror of the moment and its future, and pray it is better than what it once was