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 


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