draliman on life

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Brenda Cox.

It happened overnight.

There was no wind. No storm. No vandalism.

Two of the three trees simply fell down. Ripped out by the roots.

Once upon a time (as all good fairy tales begin) they called these ‘The Peace Trees’.

‘As long as the three stand, the future is assured,’ so the story goes. Or words to that effect.

Two down, one to go.

One minute to doomsday?

But the old stories are gone and no-one even suspects. Except maybe old Granny Wilkins. She has “the sight”, they say.

But no-one ever believes her.

Until it’s too late.