“Are you sure about this Billy?”
“I’m telling you mate, it’ll be a doddle. We climb this old tree, nick the lead off the roof and then disappear.”
“But Billy, it’s a church.”
“So what. You expecting a bolt of lightning from above or something? Come on, we’ll be long gone before anyone realises it’s missing.”
The tree watched the two young men and smiled, it had been such a long time, bolts of lightning were the least of their worries. As the official guardian of the church, it had the right to devour any one it thought a threat.
An interesting photo prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneer.