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Weekly Contest #175
The night air was seeping through my skin and biting into my bones; daddy was clawing into the ground, and he stopped. He outstretched his arm and gestured to me; I handed him one of the two potted plants; the leaves radiated warm light, translucent with thread-thin veins. He told me to press my hand at the base of the tree in the dirt, and the soil was grainy yet soft and cold—pinprick massages all over the surface of my palm. Then, the leaves glowed, more radiate and wondrous. "WOW, so pretty," I said. Daddy explained what we were doing...
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