Sunlit Meadows
A 50 word short story
The wounded soldier rested against a crumbling gravestone.
Everywhere else blasted ruin.
“Died 1916. Aged 18,” read the faded inscription.
In the distance battle raged.
Here was restful quiet.
Dropping the blood soaked rag, he sighed his last.
A gentle hand took his and lead them on through sunlit meadows.
Just my thoughts on the horrors of war, the seemingly endless need for humans to destroy each other, and the continued stupidity of bitter old men.
Thanks to the wonderful Justin Deming for his prompt to write a 50 word story based on a quiet observation : -
I know I might not have strictly met the remit but this is what came to mind.
The reason it did was a conversation I had with the equally wonderful Sharron Bassano about one of her recent stories : -
We discussed this tragic piece of history and also the song, Green Fields of France, which was written by Eric Bogle, but I always remember it being performed by the Scottish folk band, The Corries and sung by my dad around the house. It’s beautiful and sad and well worth a listen.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this story.
Thanks for reading. Until next time.
This is superb, Daniel. Also, I’m very sorry. I must have missed this somehow. Thank you so much for the kind shoutout! It’s very much appreciated!
the image of the sunlit meadow really grabs your heart!