Twelve years it took to build that heap. Layer upon layer, daily, they threw more on the pile. Biting words, sullen indifference, and infidelity lay there with broken shards of her soul and spent casings of his ego. For all the heat building there, it was awfully cold.
One day, he finally just lit a match. Flames consumed the nascent life that struggled always toward the light. Smirking, he watched her vanish behind the flickers. The ashes sifted into earth.
He might hate to know, but the hand of nature, or maybe God, is ever on the cradle. Sprouts appear.
Nancy Elliott walks, runs, hikes, looks up at the stars, dreams, loves, wonders, explores, and words keep tumbling out. She has written for and edited newspapers in Michigan and Indiana, earning press association awards in both states. She holds degrees from the University of Michigan - Ann Arbor and Aquinas College. Some of Elliott's writings, photography, and artwork can be found on her blog, EarthSkyAir.