100-word Flash Fiction
This week’s story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
“This is sad.” I said as I circled the blackened stump.
“Why? It’s just a tree.”
“No! My parents planted it the year I was born. Seventy-two years ago. Each of us kids had a tree planted somewhere on the farm to commemorate our birth. This was mine. Looks like lightning hit it.”
I screamed and nearly knocked Ian down.
On hands and knees, I tore at grass and soil with my bare hands.
“I forgot! I buried a box under this tree when I was twelve.”
A tin cash box. I buried twelve things on my twelfth birthday.