Wednesday's Words on a Friday
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.
The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.
This month the prompts are supplied by Margaret Adamson and Sue Fulcher and can be found here.
Every day for a week, the young boy had been coming through the woods, finding his way unerringly, though he had never been here before. Always wearing the same blue jeans, the same red jacket, with a hood. I believe they call them hoodies these days. But he always stopped near the giant firs.
Afraid to come any further, he would stand by the stump and watch the glade. Our own private little cemetery. These weathered old headstones were all that remained of our family. These and the firs, which had once been a Christmas Tree farm. We raised other things of course, vegetables, chickens, a couple of pigs. But all were long gone now and no one came here anymore. The family had moved away to the city after the youngest of us had been buried here. The cabin fell to ruins, the firs grew tall; no one had wanted to buy the farm after several of us had been 'seen'. The woods were "haunted" and people stayed away.
The first time the boy appeared, I had been 'out' and he'd seen me. I'd been waiting for him, I'd known he was coming, but perhaps it was too soon. Perhaps he didn't yet understand his situation. The youngest of the young generations, he shouldn't be here at all, but as they say, accidents happen. It was a terrible shame, but here he was. I decided to send Aunt Georgia instead, perhaps he wouldn't be afraid of a gentle faced woman, this newly dead youngster who now belonged to us. His headstone wouldn't be here, of course, it would be in the city cemetery, but this is where his soul belonged.