In May I tilled the garden, so swept up in the work that I churned beyond the boundaries of Grandma’s old plot into rocky soil where a dead maple had recently been removed. An animal, I said, when the tiller turned up bones. A beloved pet. Then the skull, silver crowns glinting in its jaw.
I knelt. “Hello. I’m your granddaughter, Alice. We’ve never met, but your wife left me this house.” Mute bone. A hard man, cruel, I’d been told, who’d abandoned his bewildered family.
The sunflowers I planted there flourished. They don’t need kind soil to grow strong.
Photo Credit: alain 01789
Oh this is really good – a perfect, chilling story in a tiny pace.
What a strong story in so few words. Very imaginative. I like the brief plot development. Great job from a fellow writer and poet.
Love this 🙂
Powerful story, I am going to have to give this 100 word story thing a try!
Ah, the power of 100 words! Wonderful.