Henry's Garden by Nancy de Guerre
Nancy de Guerre gets her hands dirty in her story inspired by this week's writing prompt.
What would happen in your story?
Write a description of somebody who is all alone, doing something that requires your technical knowledge. Some possibilities could be: making a waffle, tying a shoelace, building an engine, operating a sewing machine, baking a cake, or waxing a set of cross-country skis.
Henry kneeled in the damp earth, patting the soil firmly into place. The gnarled fingers of his hands moved deftly as he filled the small hole where the lone geranium stood waiting for its foundation. He grunted lightly as he worked, and his breathing was heavy and uneven. The early morning sun was heating the tiny garden space but Henry was oblivious to the beads of sweat that had begun to form on his forehead.
He worked with quiet determination, first filling the spade with the rich soil from the plastic bag, then carefully placing it around the plant, and finally gently pushing the loose earth toward the delicate stem of the geranium. After he had repeated the cycle several times, he stopped for a moment to gaze at the result. Henry patted the earth one final time before reaching for the big blue watering can that rested on the smooth stone in front of him. He gave his newly planted geranium a good watering and then placed the can back to its spot on the stone. He stood back a few steps now, once again gazing intently at his work. A moment later, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.
Before he turned to head inside, Henry took the pair of scissors from the tool belt around his waist, and snipped two blossoms of the lily of the valley that he was certain had just come into bloom that morning.
Main page photo credit: M Tulottes