Maisy sat down in a heap. Sweat poured off her brow as she swiped at it with a handkerchief.
Carl unsteadily walked up to her, checking his cane against a few of the stones beside the dirt track. He wobbled a bit when he stopped before her. “How much longer, Maisy?”
With a sigh, she squinted up at him. The sun was only high enough to peek over his shoulder. “I gots fo’ mo’ of these logs fo’ I can get to lunch. Why, ol’ man?”
He reached behind his back and produced a canteen. “Drink up and come to the house. You look like you’ve been pulled backward through a knothole. Enough chopping for today.”
Grateful for the water and the reprieve, the spinster replied, “Yesser.”
On the way back to the cabin, he wondered what would become of her when he died in the cold of winter.
This is a complete departure from what normally appears as my flash. Consider it me trying on hats. Coming in on the nose of 150 words, this flash features the word backward.
Only one left. Next week is the last week of the quarter. Are your flashes in? The deadline is 30SEP13 at 2359 EDT (GMT -4). No late entries will be considered.
Why is the spinster chopping his firewood? Why will she die without him? Why does he not just marry her?
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