Grandma’s Rock

Today’s Friday Flash Fiction post is my take on the photo prompt provided by Madison Woods. Visit her website  and find links to other Friday Flash Fiction stories from authors around the globe.
Grandma’s Rock
It wasn’t far from the little cabin. The once well-worn path, now overgrown with greenbriars and honeysuckle, just a faint memory.  Ears strained to capture the harmonious melody of water trickling over stones, I picked my way through underbrush.
There, beneath a slight opening in the trees, was Grandma’s rock.  Solid and unchanged by the ravages of time and technology, the large curvaceous stone could be imagined as a love seat or daybed.
Decorated with patches of moss, lichen, and a smattering of dried leaves—a living memorial to the calluses on Grandma’s knees from washing diapers in the stream.

9 Comments on “Grandma’s Rock

  1. Hi Russell,Grandma's Rock is a pastoral in an of itself. I enjoyed the tone and reverence for nature and, of course, for Grandma herself. A lovely piece.Aloha,Doug


  2. Hi Russell,This if a very nice memory piece and as a resident of the Ozarks, I loved the Ozarky feel of it. Great descriptive writing with a touching sense of nostalgia.Here's mine:


  3. Aw, that was charming. I thought you were going to end it differently and I really enjoyed the story ending with the reality of why the rock was Grandma's.Good show,Lindaura


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