Flash Fiction (100 Words)

Veronica Barrowcliff

Standing still, silently, giving myself a new perspective on the yard I grew up in. My grandma’s house. Then my mother’s. Now ours, my two sisters and I, caring for the precious building. I followed my sisters further as we headed to our unanimous ultimate spot: a small niche behind a grove of trees tucked close to a back corner of the house’s lot. Stopping at the center of the grove, we crouched in a circle, just above a newly dug hole. The hole contains a great keepsake. One of a fantastic past, and — we all hoped, an incredible future.