Photo prompt-© Marie Gail Stratford
“You won’t even recognise that place. For miles you won’t see one full grown tree. Not even a shrub grows there. The rivulets have dried and birds have vanished.”
Grandpa was adamant that he would go back to the place where he had spent ten years of his childhood.
“I haven’t many days left. Please, I want to feel those trees and hear those birds….”
“It’s all changed, fallout of the progress.”
“You think I’m a fool.”
“If you insist I will take you, but you may not survive the shock.”
“Let it be.”
We are on the way.
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt
Word count 99