Green Fingers


Naomi washed her muddy hands in the kitchen sink smiling at a good days work. Both of her knees ached, even with the use of the kneeling pad she had ordered from the shopping channel. It had been comfortable but old age couldn’t be denied.  

A wren struggled against the blustery wind seeking refuge under her newly planted rose bushes. Soon the soil would be nutrient rich, allowing many more birds to flock here and feast on worms.The over-burdened clouds finally broke, spilling their contents onto the parched land.

Relieved at missing the ensuing  torrent she brewed a pot of tea, listening to the distant rumble of thunder. Its vibrations rattled deep inside her.

The thick pellets of rain fell heavily, slaking her gardens thirst. 

Reaching up into a cupboard Naomi retrieved a hidden packet of chocolate bourbons that had been stowed away in a tupperware box marked Ryvita’s.
How many years had it been since she had been allowed to eat what she wanted? Enjoy herself? At least a decade. Picking up her pot of Yorkshire tea, no more Earl Gray for her,she switched off the light and moved into the living room. Maybe she would watch a soap for once, and leave the heating on for more than an hour.

Whilst the television blared , the raindrops splattered the lawn outside. Intermittently lightning illuminated the night sky revealing the fingertips of an outstretched hand thrusting upwards from the  sodden earth.

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