Tuesday Tales - But For a Tree
Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.
A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image. You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- tree. This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.
Enjoy!~
I bought out every fruit tree the local nursery had in stock. I’m sure I made the owners day with the amount of money I spent. Today, money was no object standing in the way of what I wanted to do. A tree was the perfect memorial- strong, sturdy, with deep roots holding fast as the important base.
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A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image. You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- tree. This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.
Enjoy!~
Conner helped me load them all in my dad’s truck.
“Are we going very far?” Eyeing the full bed, he appeared to guage the success rate of getting everything to the site.
“We aren’t going far at all. I’ll drive slowly with the hazard blinkers on. Don’t you worry about me.”
“I’ve never doubted your determination.” Smiling, Conner raised an eyebrow and took off the work gloves.
“Get in, we’ve got work to do.” I tried to think of this as a routine project, I couldn’t think the word memorial without losing my shit. With the entire truck full of trees, I almost felt overwhelmed. How the hell would we get them all planted?
I hit the gas and off we went, racing at a turtle’s pace for the few miles to the new orchard. I’d never taken Garrett there, and I was suddenly hesitant to share such a personal place. Not knowing what to say, I chose to stay quiet, pretending to focus on my driving.
“Thank you for trusting me to help you with this.” He spoke so softly, I almost didn’t hear him clearly.
“It’s been a hard year, one of the hardest of my life. You’ve been so good for me, it should be me thanking you.”
“I’m your friend, Rachel, you don’t have to thank me.”
Somehow, I did need to thank him, it’s just how I felt. He always showed up, almost at my beck and call. Not many people would do that. “It’s important you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
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