He was a towering figure, a mountain man
After years of relentless stress, the city stockbroker finally snapped. The noise, the pressure, the endless grind—it was too much. So he did what few ever have the guts to do. He quit. Walked away from the suits, the skyscrapers, the concrete jungle. He sold off everything, packed his bags, and rented a cabin far from anyone—deep in the wilderness, where the only sound was the wind through the trees and the rustle of animals in the brush.
For six months, he found peace. No phones, no emails, no meetings—just the quiet company of nature. Until one day, a knock shattered his isolation.
He opened the door to find a towering figure—bearded, broad-shouldered, filling the doorway like some kind of mountain man straight out of a legend. The man shifted awkwardly, glancing down at his heavy boots as if nervous. Finally, he spoke.
“Howdy. I’m your neighbor from about a mile down the road. I, uh… I’m throwin’ a party on Saturday. Thought you might want to come.”
The stockbroker blinked, caught off guard. “A party? Well, you know what, that actually sounds great. It’s been a while since I’ve been around people, and it might be good to get out. I’ll be there.”
The lumberjack gave a nod, relieved. “Good. See ya at eight, then.”
He turned to leave, but stopped abruptly, his back still to the door. “Oh, uh… I should probably mention, there’s gonna be some heavy drinkin’.”
The stockbroker chuckled. “I used to drink like a fish back in the city. I’m sure I can keep up.”
The lumberjack nodded again, but there was hesitation in his eyes. “Right. Well, see ya Saturday.” He started to walk off but stopped, once more turning back.
“And, uh… there’ll probably be some fightin’. Just so you know.”
The stockbroker raised an eyebrow. “Fighting? Well, alright. I’m usually good at avoiding trouble, but if it happens, I’ll handle myself.”
The lumberjack’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “Right.” He scratched at his beard, then seemed ready to leave again, only to turn back yet again, the words slower now. “One last thing… there’ll, uh, probably be some wild sex. You know, before the night’s over.”
The stockbroker perked up, stifling a grin. “Well, I’ve been out here alone for months, so I don’t think I’ll complain about that.”
The lumberjack gave a final nod. “Right. See you Saturday.”
As the giant figure turned for what seemed like the last time, the stockbroker called after him. “Wait—just one question. What should I wear?”
The lumberjack paused, deep in thought. After a moment, he scratched his beard once more and said, “Don’t reckon it matters much. It’s just gonna be you and me.”
For six months, he found peace. No phones, no emails, no meetings—just the quiet company of nature. Until one day, a knock shattered his isolation.
He opened the door to find a towering figure—bearded, broad-shouldered, filling the doorway like some kind of mountain man straight out of a legend. The man shifted awkwardly, glancing down at his heavy boots as if nervous. Finally, he spoke.
“Howdy. I’m your neighbor from about a mile down the road. I, uh… I’m throwin’ a party on Saturday. Thought you might want to come.”
The stockbroker blinked, caught off guard. “A party? Well, you know what, that actually sounds great. It’s been a while since I’ve been around people, and it might be good to get out. I’ll be there.”
The lumberjack gave a nod, relieved. “Good. See ya at eight, then.”
He turned to leave, but stopped abruptly, his back still to the door. “Oh, uh… I should probably mention, there’s gonna be some heavy drinkin’.”
The stockbroker chuckled. “I used to drink like a fish back in the city. I’m sure I can keep up.”
The lumberjack nodded again, but there was hesitation in his eyes. “Right. Well, see ya Saturday.” He started to walk off but stopped, once more turning back.
“And, uh… there’ll probably be some fightin’. Just so you know.”
The stockbroker raised an eyebrow. “Fighting? Well, alright. I’m usually good at avoiding trouble, but if it happens, I’ll handle myself.”
The lumberjack’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “Right.” He scratched at his beard, then seemed ready to leave again, only to turn back yet again, the words slower now. “One last thing… there’ll, uh, probably be some wild sex. You know, before the night’s over.”
The stockbroker perked up, stifling a grin. “Well, I’ve been out here alone for months, so I don’t think I’ll complain about that.”
The lumberjack gave a final nod. “Right. See you Saturday.”
As the giant figure turned for what seemed like the last time, the stockbroker called after him. “Wait—just one question. What should I wear?”
The lumberjack paused, deep in thought. After a moment, he scratched his beard once more and said, “Don’t reckon it matters much. It’s just gonna be you and me.”
