Sarah Valente
Stories (2)
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Going Home
Treeless fields of weeds and grass stretched forward to the horizon. His grandmother’s orchard was thick with seedlings and saplings that crowded the elderly trees. A layer of apples lay rotting on the ground giving the air a treacly aroma. Heavy laden walnut trees added to the perfume of his childhood. He stopped to breathe in deeply, then he lifted the beam from the latch. With frail hands trembling upon the handles, he pulled as hard as he could. The doors to the barn and his past flew open, and the memories advanced with such tremendous force that he struggled to stay on his feet.
By Sarah Valente5 years ago in Fiction
Her Mother's Treasure
She smoothed back her hair with her wet hands and then reached deep within the suds to feel along the bottom of the bucket. Her movements were slow and steady at first but soon grew frantic. “Where is it?” she whispered to herself. “Why did I wear it today? It’s Emma’s turn.” Unable to feel anything there, she slowly tipped the bucket onto the dusty ground. The dry earth soaked up the water until a shallow pool of mud remained at her feet. In it, something caught the light of the setting sun. “The locket! Thank you!” she said softly.
By Sarah Valente5 years ago in Families
