Rheumy eyes viewed the long orchard.
His treasured trees would outlive her, but deprived of care, they too would die.
He’d picked his trees, and her, for the fruit each would bear. He’d loathed her barrenness.
His acid tongue was silent now. For the first time in years, she smiled.
Christine Nedahl is a retired teacher from the Rhondda Valley, South Wales, now living with her husband in Arboleas in the Almanzora Valley, Spain. She enjoys writing about anything and everything, but flash fiction and poetry are currently favourites. She has been published in a number of anthologies and is a member of Writers Abroad. See more at christinenedahl.wordpress.com.