Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Erin Leary
Touching the Sky
“I don’t see the resemblance,” the mushroom said. “The pinecone doesn’t look like you.”
“Not now,” replied the fence, “but eventually it will grow into a tree, just like I was.”
“What happened to you?” the mushroom asked. “Why are you naked?”
“Don’t get me started,” the fence said, wincing. “In 50 years that pinecone will be a tree so tall it will block the sun.”
The fence and the mushroom were quiet, in contemplation. For the mushroom, the thought of 50 years was unfathomable, but the fence had fond memories of wind in its branches, of touching the sky.
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It's a long story ... 
fascinating, we forget but every fence was once a tree
Existential sadness in this.
We had a large chestnut blow down this week in our street. Old. Rotten. No one hurt. Just hearts.
Old trees are like guardians, and it’s hard to see one fall like that.
Oh, I love this! So much good stuff in so few words. Well done!
I love the point of view. Fascinating that wood may have a memory.
Dear Tresha,
Interesting points of view here. The last line made me smile.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Wonderful story and lovely images.