There was a time when my father stood strong.
Through any storm his branches protected us.
His roots anchored us to the land.
His trunk solid and unbending against history.
Now the turmoil of time has taken its toll.
That once great man lies now broken.
Torn down by years of war and violence.
Now we must carry him as he has carried us.
Death is near to him.
His suffering will end soon.
Ours will go on.
Who will protect us when the trees have all gone?
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story, in around 150 words based on the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
Featured image: © Ivan Shishkin – Old Fallen Trees
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