Clickety clack went the sound in all hours of the night. Granny’s house was near the rail tracks and the trains could be heard whooshing by, the tracks rattling, the screech of the wheels and the shrill whistle. The branches of the nearby trees rustled in the wind, disturbed by the passing train.
The children always hated the noise and put their fingers in their ears to block out the sound. Granny smiled because she had lived half her life there. The trains did not let her feel lonely, she said.
And now she gathered the children’s clothes and tied them in a dirty sheet to make a bundle that their father could carry. He was coming later that day to take his little ones across the tracks to the settlement where he had a small farm.
“Please come with us, Granny,” they tugged at her skirts. “I have someone to take care of,” she said placidly, as she plucked button daisies and held them in her sweating fists, hobbling slowly towards her husband’s grave.
Word Count : 175
Thank you to Louise Bunting with The Storyteller’s Abode for the prompt photo this week.
This is my submission for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Challenge, where we are given a photo prompt and approximately 100-175 words with which to build our stories. The challenge is open to everyone who would like to participate.