The Garden After the Rain : Friday Fictioneers

The Garden after the Rain

There’s something extremely sensual about fondling clay. I love going into the garden after the rain and grabbing the sodden clay; moulding it between my fingers and making shapes as I drift into tactile, youthful memories.

The other day I watched this pottery competition on the TV and one of the contestants said that pottery is almost as good as sex ; I wouldn’t go that far though. It’s just good, dirty fun.

Delving deeper I yank out some sort of cable. Probably a remnant from when the house was built.

Then I see the severed finger attached to the end.

It’s another week and another piece of flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers, prompted by Rochelle and the interesting image provided by © Connie Gayer …(Mrs. Russell). Thanks to both of you!


This week my fiction clocks in at exactly 100 words but I had to work really hard to bring it down …

Edit : For cohesion I changed saw to see in the last sentence.

29 thoughts on “The Garden After the Rain : Friday Fictioneers

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