The Last Laugh
Microfiction Magic
I hate gardening. Hate plants. Even as I tend to the freshly planted sapling I wonder why I bother. I could just let it die I suppose, but that would be giving in, letting her be right yet again. Her hissing voice takes up its vicious invective from beyond the grave, echoing through my mind, reminding me of all the plants and pets I failed to keep alive.
And so with a smile I lift my skirt and squat to pee, happy for once that she got her own way, and was buried here at the foot of the garden.
About the Creator
Veronica Stone
Short story and flash fiction writer.
I love old movies, whisky and fountain pens.
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More stories from Veronica Stone and writers in Fiction and other communities.
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By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Haha, the last laugh indeed. That was a surprise at the end 😄