21. Inheritance

My submission for the final round of the NYC Midnight Microfiction challenge.

24 hours to write 250 words given a genre, word and action assignment.

Genre: Open (so whatever the heck I wanted)

Word: stain

Action: Collapsing

--

The land broker let out a low whistle, “Stunning block you’ve got here, Gus.” Angus nodded, the view from the knoll laid bare the harsh beauty of the Scott family farm. Pockmarked with rocky outcrops and hidden recesses, each acre of hard won pasture had been wrested from nature’s grip. Like his father and grandfather before him, Angus had learnt every inch of the dry, rugged terrain over the decades. If things were different, his young sons might have too.

The doctor had noticed the stain in Angus’ x-ray last year. Cancer. The same lung as his father. The lingering drought had already brought the family to their knees. It was only due to their tearful pleas to not repeat his father’s mistake, had Angus agreed to sell the property and continue treatment.

The broker handed Angus a contract: “Come on Gus, you won’t get a better offer this year.” Angus was stoic as he looked toward the cherry trees where they’d buried his father’s ashes. He pictured his boys running through the orchard, collapsing on top of eachother in fits of laughter. The roots of this land had only just seeded in their sinews. The valleys had not yet etched themselves into their palms.

No. Just like his father, he would not deny his children this inheritance. One day they'd understand.

Angus hacked crimson into his sleeve before wiping his mouth. He handed back the contract and trudged toward the orchard and his father’s grave: “Maybe next year then.”