I kicked up tiny puffs of grit as I walked down the sandy path, getting the fine silt in my shoes.
As I wandered deeper into the woods, my mind went back to our argument that morning. Once we calmed down, it was clear we both wanted the same thing.
That’s how it was lately. Fighting about nothing, our being mad for mad’s sake.
Under the cool canopy of oaks and pines, I found the muscadines. Picking the wild grapes, I thought it would be less of a miracle to turn them into wine, than for us to make peace.
Thin spiral notebook 
Sad, but so well-written. I like how you used Vel’s word as the theme. That’s super-impressive.
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I have read many of your posts and I feel you really have mastered the art of flash fiction. I get such large images from such a small amount of words! Great work!
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And please tell me if you ever make some of that wine!
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Beautiful piece, Tara. Somber and thoughtful – each word well and properly placed.
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A sad reflection. Very well written.
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