100 Word Flash Fiction Series
Where has that last pebble gone?
I make the mistake of using the broom.
Did I hear a sound, the rattle of a pebble skipping across the floor,
Out the door?
Maggie springs after it, bats it further down the worn front path,
Now I’m chasing the cat,
Chasing the stone,
Till I come upon a weeping woman in the grass.
“I’m sorry to disturb you.”
These lowland meadows don’t usually include
Why is she here?
“The grave. It’s gone. There was a stone here for my baby.”
And then I see it, my brown pebble.
Read the StormWeaver series by searching under #StormWeaver category.