When you grow up on a farm, you learn the value of hard work, especially gathering a harvest. From dawn to dusk, we were bent over, filling our baskets with nature’s bounty.
I remember one time when I was picking peas. I heard a small voice say, “Stop! I don’t want to be eaten.”
I looked closer and saw that one of the pea pods had cracked open enough to expose one pea. “Please don’t take me and my family,” said this strange talking pea.
I grabbed my basket and ran through the field screaming, “Mama! “They’re talking!”
Copyright © 2017 Walt Page
All Rights Reserved
A Carrot Ranch Literary Community 99 Word Flash Fiction Challenge
September 21, 2017 Prompt: What it is to gather a harvest