Mending fences was not his favourite task: the sharpness of the wire and the plants’ brittle stems made for potential injury. The work reminded him of his childhood friend who had believed in his own untried strength. He would never forget the gaping wound, nor his friend’s pale face as he bled out. Carefully and efficiently, the farmer completed the necessary repair. Prevention of more injuries was paramount. As soon as planting began, the land would become treachourous for ignorant stragglers and he had no wish to spend time in the courtroom. Once had been enough.
Why do you think he had been in a courtroom?
© Colline Kook-Chun, 2015
(This post was inspired by Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. The challenge asks for bloggers to write a story in 100 words or less in response to the photo prompt.)