Photo Prompt courtesy of Sandra Crook
Kelvin M. Knight
Trees needed to be hugged. They couldn’t hug themselves so he did it for them. They tried, bless them, with their swaying branches, their groping twigs and stroking leaves; however they did not possess the knack. He did. His gift was hugging. He loved wrapping his arms around trees whether they were short or tall, thin or fat, whether they were leaning, falling or fallen. He especially hugged those trees whose bark was deformed, those whose flesh was lumpy. To these trees who looked ugly, diseased and lonely, he gave the longest, tightest hugs and willed himself not to cry.
We are a bunch of enthusiastic amateur and professional writers from across the globe who love drabble-sized flash fiction so much we share our little masterpieces with one another for commenting, critiquing and enjoyment. Our stories are based on a weekly photo prompt co-ordinated by our most gracious of hostesses, Rochelle.
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