I'm tickeld pink, this story won Wee Challenge 33 :-)

Straw hat plopped on her silver head; she painstakingly loosens obdurate earth around her favorite rose bushes. Tiring easily, pausing often to lean on the hoe. Her husband, stooped now, methodically rakes dead leaves from a greening lawn. She rests again, gazes at the sky. Her grip slides down the hoe.

“Ouch! Now look.” She walks towards him, injured hand throbbing, pain familiar. Her fingers curl, pain increases. “It was a day just like this, wasn’t it?” Dark blood erupts from the wound.

"Be careful, honey." Arm circling her, he studies the mottled sky. Muscles twitch in his cheek. “More blue showed through, less white.”

“Yes, but it was like this... peaceful. I got a splinter just before they came.” Grief buried long ago surfaces. Blood runs; she gasps. The part she remembers plays in her head: A shiny sedan stopping at the gate, army insignia blazing on its side; two officers, one male one female, stepping out.

They stand together looking up. She forces slow deliberate breaths, recovers, smiles for him, returns to her roses.

She continues to bleed.

Want to comment on this Flash Fiction? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Flash Fiction and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...