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Write about a character sowing seeds for the future (literally or figuratively).

Posted in Spring on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 37 stories

The Garden Oath

Shortlisted for Contest #139 ⭐️

Bernadette's stomach churned every time she hugged her dad. She was revolted by the sticky suction of his sweaty arms on her skin. She despised the nose-scrunching sour stench of his morning work in the hot delta earth. More than anything, she hated being so close to the man who killed her mother. Standing at the edge of the garage she'd just entered, Bernadette watched as a strange woman carried her mother's unfinished sewing projects and knick-knacks to an unfamiliar car. "I really can't thank ya enough, Owen, for donating these," the ...

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Head Plant Supervisor

Submitted to Contest #139

He knew what they called him and he didn’t like it: Unemployed Lloyd. True, he’d been out of work for a while; but that’s no reason for insults. Besides, he’d sent out his resume. Even went on a few interviews. He knew his luck would change and they’d be sorry.     Lloyd scratched his butt and looked at the clock. He heard the stop-and-go hum of the mail truck and trudged to the door; not bothering to put on shoes (or pants, for that matter.) The only highlight of his day since he lost his job, was the mail.   &...

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Adam and Evelyn

Submitted to Contest #139

Content warning: Child lossAnother apple disintegrates under the weight of Evelyn's boots. It is the third one in the five minutes that they've been in the orchard, and it does nothing to quell her nagging suspicion that this whole excursion is a mistake. The mushy fruit clings to the sole of her shoe like a beggar, but she refuses to fall any farther behind.Already ten paces ahead, her wife, Gloria, whips through the row of apple trees with the same pinballesque efficiency she uses when stuffing bills and magazines and credit card offers in...

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THE ETERNITY SEED CO.

Submitted to Contest #139

Maureen Patrick                                                                                        &nbs...

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The Tragedy of the Seed Sower

Submitted to Contest #139

"There you are," The woman One murmured as she bent down to sow her seed. Her chances were better with seeds than babies; fewer of them died after touching her. She thought maybe murmuring helped. "You'll be fine."His blade glinting in the sun, her male guard stepped closer. The stick in his hand also held promise, though not an immediate threat. Unlike some, he didn't seem to be the violent type. He'd never hit her for the fun of it, like some. Glancing into his face, she glimpsed his eyes observing her. Light brown, thickly lashed. Memory ...

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The Acorn

Submitted to Contest #139

The acorn jostled around in the bottom of a knapsack. Scooped up from the dark Illinois prairie soil, the acorn was on its way to the Palouse. Carried by a man with heavy eyes and a pioneering spirit, the small acorn would soon bear witness to hundreds of seasons, gatherings, and coming and goings of family farm life. Planted in a ground warmer and drier than where it came from, the white oak acorn shouldn’t have had a life after its cross-country expedition. Its planter, however, was a skilled farmer - a farmer that had a dream of a lush...

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El Jardín

Submitted to Contest #139

Childish giggles and soft gasps of awe filled the hushed quiet of the morning and my aching heart. Wide blue eyes gaped up at me, framed by lashes so thick even a mare would be jealous.“Can I plant the seed Mamá?”I smiled down at her, tousling those silky blonde curls that glinted molten gold in the morning sun. “Por supuesto puede, mi amor.”Isabella patted the damp soil with chubby fingers, flattening and smoothing it until it was what she deemed perfect. With a giggle at her dirty hands, she grinned up at me. “What now Mamá?”I knelt to her...

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Beach Fairies Afoot

Submitted to Contest #139

Mickey is Irish although he lives in the United States. His name is Michael O’Connor but his friends call him Mickey. He can trace his heritage back to Paddie O’Connor who married Emily MacMullen on a steamer bringing starving Irish, sold into indentured servitude, slavery, during the potato blight of 1847. According to Paddie, taken directly from his journal written in broken Gaelic, he missed the connection with their patrons at the New York dock. The current citizens didn’t care for the immigrants and gathered to beat at the new arrivals ...

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The Ever-Endless Earth

Submitted to Contest #139

At last, the sun dipped bellow the scattered, brown horizon. Skunk Lowery raised his hand to it, curving his calloused fingers and cupping the orange shine, as though it were the pomelo he'd received for Christmas as a boy. The wild citrus smell was so beautiful that he didn't dare break open the skin, and he hid it under his rope bed like a buried treasure. Over time, it had turned rotten and bent in on itself, like the earth seemed to be doing now. Skunk dropped his hand and rubbed it against his trousers to clean the dirt off. He worried ...

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Ghost Seed

Submitted to Contest #139

1907 The ground shook, and the burlap bag of seeds flew out of her tiny hands. The seeds scattered around her bare feet as she caught herself mid-fall. For a moment, the earth stood still. No sound of birds. No wind whispering through the ridges. Bewildered, she collected herself. She would have to wait for the mud to dry to collect her seeds again. That, or she could just leave them be. Perhaps those were meant to be planted there anyway. The world didn’t violently rattle for no reason. “Lilly, head back to Camp 2. Tell the chief engine...

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You Read It, You Can Keep It

Submitted to Contest #139

Grandfather's have an irritating way of dying on you. When we got the phone call from his neighbor, mom cried and dad went silent. Mister-always-has-an-opinion suddenly didn't have one. Death doesn't care if you have an opinion. You can't argue with death. I was Gramp's only granddaughter. I didn't know what to feel.   The last time my dad and Gramps talked was three Thanksgivings ago. It wasn't a stupid thing like you see on social media where some kid turns over the table while everybody's still eating. It was my dad and Gramps...

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Phikelela (Perseverance)

Submitted to Contest #139

Sifso lived with his mother and young sister in a one room shack in the sprawling township of over 1000 other dwellings built from anything that came to hand. Salvaged wood, iron sheets, plastic and cardboard. The township was one of hundreds that surrounded the major cities in the country.  Sifso and his mother considered themselves lucky to have secured a handkerchief size piece of ground on which to build their small house by paying a levy to the local Usibonda (Headman). There was no title on the land in the informal sections of t...

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Beauty for Ashes

Submitted to Contest #139

Beauty for Ashes Dry lightning cracks the brooding sky, pointing sharp fingers at parched earth. A tiny spark, skipping to a clump of scrubby, desiccated vegetation, ignites the tip of a woody stem - transforming drab, grayish brown to deep, glowing orange. The pungent odor hanging in the air is sweet, with a tang of metallic sharpness.##########“It’s so peaceful up here,” Bonnie sighed. “Aren’t you glad we came?” She set two plain stoneware mugs carefully on the railing and moved in close to her husband, taking in the panoramic view. “...

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Nurture and Nature

Submitted to Contest #139

"Congratulations! I can't believe after all these years you're both finally going to be parents! I'm so super excited for you both." Mum was clapping her hands like a cymbal- banging monkey and uncoordinatedly jumping up and down- until she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. "I just peed a little!” And with that - she ran out the room laughing. Half the family gathered around the lounge room hung their heads and shook them at their chests. The other half were slapping thighs and rocking back in laughter - I was one of the ones rocking b...

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The Kingdom of Smart

Submitted to Contest #139

Just because it was 4 PM and Ricky Smart was home from school, didn’t mean he was having fun. The rain pouring outside precluded any outside activity, and he was reduced to sitting in his room. The books had been read and the games had been played; there was nothing in his room that could draw his interest. The persistent raindrops pelting his window frustrated him; the gray sky outside made him depressed and wistful.Looking at the comic book in his hand with disgust, he tossed it aside, and looked at his bed. He almost never took naps durin...

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