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Weekly Contest #353
i. where the fruit trees grow The last fruit tree resided in the most unreachable of places. This, however, did not matter to the neighboring village. The treacherous trek down the 200-foot cliffs didn’t make the journey to a strange plant worth it for many. Besides, only one family knew how to tend to it, watering it, pruning it, and harvesting it every year. Eva still remembered the first time her mother had taken her into the barren canyon to begin the training process. She had stood in the shade of the tree’s peculiar limbs (“branches...
Winner of Weekly Contest #348 🏆
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. The first sound that greeted her when she awoke was her own heartbeat. The second sound was a squealing mechanical whir. Her eyes (so heavy, so tired) drifted to the source of the noise: robotic appendages with drills and pliers and other tools affixed to the end of them. They retreated from her to metal poles that surrounded her bed. A bed? She didn’t remember a bed when she last fell asleep. No, she remembered blue skies, ambulance sirens in the distance, and an excruciating pain in her legs. The memory prompt...
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