Is this sickness?

Lack of light? Solid darkness? Under canopies of lovely trees, thick with glossy emerald leaves, where sunshine cannot reach?

On the ground. Broken bits of self. Hazy eyes, unfocused from pain—grime on windows to the soul.

Shatter me.

Break apart the clumps of soil. Dig into dirt with naked hands, crumbling until fingernails become half moons of filth.

Till the earth of who I was. From this mangled mass of roots, pebbles, and pain, let something whole and healthy break through the ground. Let something beautiful grow.

This wishing. This futile hope.

Is this sickness?



June 24 Prompt: Dirt (In 99 words – no more, no less – write a story about dirt.)

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

11 thoughts on “Crumbling

    • Thanks, Charli. I’m glad I did, too. This last-minute submission to your prompt turned out to be quite different from my usual style. I think, because it was a quick “write-and-post”, it dug a bit deeper. (No pun intended.)


  1. Pingback: Digging Up Dirt « Carrot Ranch Communications

  2. The depth of emotion, self-reflection and questioning in this post is magnificent Sarah. I think it would take me many hours of pondering to fully grasp the intent and pain. I do feel pain, doubt and something akin perhaps, to loathing; but I like the hope that something whole and healthy will break through the ground. Wishing for that is not sickness. I admire your wellness of spirit. I hope your physical wellness has returned.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hello dear Sarah, it is far too long since I have visited you, still on a catch up after weeks away from blogging. And then, I come here and read this. Wow. Speechless. I absolutely LOVE IT. So much more than flash fiction. This is a poetic form of lyrical beauty my friend. No futile hope here…this has me digging deeper for more ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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