Joanna’s story ~ These Boots Are Made For Walking
Joshua has no idea who owns these boots, but his are holed, and he’s alone on this trail. These boots should make his trek easier.
Why look a gift horse in the mouth?
He continues on his original heading, towards the ravine. A narrow, dangerous path winds upwards; he intends to avoid that, keep to the safer, lower trail.
His feet carry him onto the higher path, towards treacherous overhangs. Wind-hewn stone flaunts ancient paintings, intense colour bleeding through the rock. Ghostly arms pluck at him as he passes.
He dissolves into the rock, leaving the boots on the path.
Ron’s story ~ The Good Gardener?
And there I was, gone. One moment drinking a mug of strong, steaming tea, looking out over my morning’s work at the allotment, then …….
I was pleased with the results: clean brown earth in neat rows with early potato shoots showing through, thinking ‘should be a good crop this year – if the weather holds.’
….now I am looking down with a view over everybody’s allotments; just my boots left sitting. Good job my socks came with me, it’s a bit chilly here.
It was sugar I put in my tea, not my other crop ….wasn’t it?
The tales written by other writers who’ve taken part this week can be found by clicking the blue frog below.
Thanks for reading, and hope you all have ‘happy holidays’ and a wonderful New Year! We hope to return to Fictioneers in January. 🙂