Providence Is in My Hands
Slowly and steadily Steven maneuvered the one-wheeled cultivator through the freshly tilled earth. After each carefully calculated pass, he methodically removed every stone and pebble the tines had exposed. For this year’s harvest there could be no impediments.
Picking up the malodorous bucket and his father’s haversack from the top of the preceding row, Steven continued to mimic the planting ritual he had seen his father do in years’ past.
Systematically pacing off ten-foot increments, Steven knelt, laid the head of a sun perch, and encircled it with the three sisters.
As new head-of-family, providence was his to command.
Written for The Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. Requirements: September 21, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about what it is to gather a harvest. You can use the phrase or show what it means without using the words. Go where the prompt leads.