Tuesday, 2 June 2015

Five Sentence Fiction - Fresh

Every Sunday after the mass, people left fresh roses at his daddy's grave.

He sold them for Rupees ten each.
Even in death, daddy looked after him.

His livelihood thrived on the kindness and mercy of few people at the church.

Every Sunday, he left the church smiling.

P.S: This post is written for Five sentence fiction for Fresh at Lillie McFerrin Writes.


  1. It's a touching flash fiction and words say everything that makes my comment meaningless:)


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