Friday, October 14, 2005

55 Fiction Friday: Plant a seed


The blades of grass tickled the back of her neck as she swept her arms up and down. Grass angels. She squinted her eyes against the sunlight that filtered through the leaves. Curling her toes into the dirt, she sniffed the air – earthy and sharp. Is this what it felt like to be truly grounded?


A N N A said...

wery nice.

i give it a hearty, "MMMM." ;)

badmash said...

(I concur with non-verbal Mallu communication)


Washington Cube said...

Grass angels. Nice. Spiritual guardians for those earth bound.

Washington Cube Was Here. #382