A Drabble for a Tuesday

A Drabble, 100 words, one story.

Organic Farming
Frost crystals danced on a frozen crust of snow and filled the wells of her feet. Her gloveless hands were white and she flexed them against the cold.
Smoke tendrils rose from paint-crusted slats; when the propane bottles exploded, so did the cracked and dusty windows.
The barn where her father and brothers had so often called her.
Neighbors whispered of a curse. So many accidents. So much death.
She saw it as progress; once the barn was gone, she’d be free to sow her vegetable gardens come spring. The land finally freed of the toxins of her youth.

3 comments:

Large Marge said...

That was superb!!!

Hey, did you see this?
http://nophatpinkchicks.blogspot.com/2008/10/sequestered-in-sioux-falls.html

Quin Browne said...

oh, i love when i get a grin from a story..


: )

missalister said...

Oooh, creepy. Seems to me you’re creativity game is crankin’ fast toward off-the-charts!