Homegrown
When she got the letter, she cried, partly because it'd been too long since she saw Memaw and partly because she had failed to come on her own accord. To most folks, her family's land, her sole
inheritance was nothing but grit and sorrow. For Mara, it was home. This was her world. That Kentucky muck soil would feed her dreams and yield her freedom. She traced a scratch along the weathered railing and smiled. She was where she was suppose to be. Planted there, she was who she was meant to be- an expanse open for giving and receiving.
linked with 100 words: soil
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Not a thing wrong with that. I like this.
ReplyDeleteI like fiction set in this part of the country. I've mentioned it before, The Dollmaker made a significant impression on me. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteits the scratch in the post she traces that gets me feeling home...its in knowing those little details well...a scratch perhaps she only knows the story behind and has yet to share with us....
ReplyDeleteand you know every writer loves to hear a reader speaking to a nuance or detail. :-)
ReplyDeleteExcellent addition to that picture - good job! I also like "southern" fiction.
ReplyDeleteEchoing Brian, that detail makes this so immediate, and makes me want to know more of her story.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. Both sad and hopeful. One of my favorite ways to write.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed your post,too, Kristy.
DeleteA beautiful piece, teaching the lesson of appreciation
ReplyDeleteLoved the description of the Kentucky land. Made me realize just how much home chooses us, not the other way around. Great job LaTonya!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. Makes me want to know more of the story.
ReplyDeleteSimple, honest, and elegant.
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear you like. Thank you.
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