The box in my hand was both heavier than I expected and lighter than it should have been, as I carried it across the field to that single maple tree, alone in that field, that had already dropped half its leaves. She'd always loved October, and she'd loved this tree. When I got there, I cried a while; then I poured out her ashes and walked away. The leaves crunched under my boots until they didn't.
A question: whose are the ashes, and who is scattering them?
8 comments:
Much very well said in only 109 words.
Very tender. I watched one of our two dogs thoroughly and happily engaged in chasing leaves the other day. This could have been a favorite dog...or a child...or.... I love that you left it to our imagination.
Our not really knowing makes it so much deeper....nicely done.
I don't think I can guess who the ashes belong to but certainly it was someone dear to the one scattering it. from your words, I gathered that much.
nicely done on the prompt. have a great day.
I agree with Karen. And I also wrote about ashes...
Brought a lump to my throat.
Love your story the best so far. ....so beautifully written...great job!!! Mine is here
Have you a ROCKING AND BLESSED WEEK!!!
hugs
shakira
Wow.
This felt like a small novel.
It's amazing how much imagination you created with this small amount of words.
I went a macabre direction with my use of the prompt...perhaps yours is the second part of mine - ha!
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