Abraham’s hands hurt. His feet hurt. The burning sun made his skin hurt. The axe in his hands felt natural, but he was aware of how tired everything made him. The tree was almost ready to fall as he took a break and wiped his forehead with one sleeve. He looked over to another man who stood nearby and gestured to the two-man saw leaning on another tree.

They began to saw at the back, using the whole length of the saw until the weight of the tree on the hewn wedge forced the remaining wood to crack and snap as it leaned and fell. Abraham sat on the thick stump and rested for a few minutes before they had to work their way up the trunk and limb every branch off of it. He made quick progress with the axe and his partner moved them into a great pile to be cut into smaller pieces later.

A team of six oxen stood hitched up nearby and Abraham led them over to the tree, fastening ropes to the yoke and they began to pull it out of the woods. The house was only a hundred meters away and they arrived quickly, beginning to hew the log into a rough square by taking off the bark and chopping at the sides with an offset axe.

The sun was sinking into the horizon as the two men and six animals pulled the log up onto the top of the wall and set the final timber in place. The work was hard, but Abraham felt good. The reward, he had learned, was worth the labor, and despite his advanced age, he still felt the satisfaction of completing a project. “Josh,” he called to his son who was still standing atop the wall, “I’m going to just sit here for a while and rest.”

Abraham sat down and felt a sense of freedom wash over him. The sun sank lower and he watched as the last visible portion of the great star sank and disappeared below the line of the horizon.

Freedom.

He sank into a deep sleep.

Freedom.

Abraham did not wake.