Under the Tree

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

I know every inch of the tree at the bottom of the backyard. As a child I climbed it’s wind-beaten, gnarly limbs a countless times. My imagination giving it countless shapes but mostly it was a refuge from my parents warring inside the house.

My mother’s disappearance made headlines across the state.  The investigators questioned me but I told them to ask the tree.  The child is traumatised they told my father and left.  

The house filled up with our silence. I would tell the tree my secrets and let my words mingle with the susurration of the leaves.  

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Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100.

Back again to the Fictioneer's fold after some time away.

To branch out and read the other stories this week click here