The backyard looked as though a tiny but industrious and pious people had built hundred of obelisks. This civilization must have worshipped hundred of gods, of various importance and devotion, judging by the difference in size and shape of some of the monoliths.
“Stop daydreaming and get to work. Jesus.”
The shrill voice of authority from inside the house broke his reverie. His mother came out of the shadows drying her hands.
“You’re the one who wanted the damn thing in the first place.Get this backyard cleaned up. Now mister.”
He dropped from the porch, the snow crunching beneath him.