This was the tree alright, the dead one with no leaves.
Streetlight nearby, no need for the torch I had brought.
A night of hard labour ahead, best get to it.
Sweat and dirt, clanging metal on rocky, hard ground.
Takes longer than you think to dig a deep grave.
At three in the morning I stand back and stretch my aching back, take a drag on a refreshing smoke.
A car arrives. They make their delivery without a word.
Dawn is breaking as I pat down the replaced soil.
Easiest hundred bucks I’ll ever make, no questions asked.

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).
To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
My first novel, ‘A Justified State,’ is available now
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