Generational Yearnings

Discovered… Harvested… Eradicated… Such a loss.

Three years and seven months… Up in smoke.

To those unworthy bystanders… the inhalation prognosis… Mind-blowing!

There’s got to be another place to grace the plantings of a new paradise for my stupefying enlightenment.

Grandfather made his fortune off of scotch and stogies… Me, I prefer my delectable doobies.

Written for Five Sentence Fiction: FRESH 


I'd love to hear from you. It's nice to know other people are out there.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s