Picture courtesy of Danny Bowman
Stark, wide, forlorn. This is what you might call a blank canvas. I wonder where my story will take me?
Word count: 100
Ashes to Ashes
Sitting together on the rock, they faced the hill they’d heard about forever.
“’Tis the most beautiful place on earth, Beenoskee.”
Sheila soaked her father’s stories in as a child. Annie had less patience for his old country talk.
“Not nearly as tall as I’d imagined,” Sheila whispered, as though in church.
“He built everything up larger than life.” Annie fiddled with her hair, head down.
“He loved us, you know.”
“Yeah. He knew fuck-all about parenting, though.”
“True. But let’s do this one last favor.”
Sheila passed the bottle to Annie. Toasting their pa, they let his ashes fly.
© Erin Leary
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