A Memory
I am seven years old, sitting in a tractor. The red paint flakes off in my fingers. My bum vibrates from the rattling engine. The noise is deafening. I don’t like loud noises, never have. But in here i’m safe. My grandad hums and sings as he tends his field.
This is my entry to @jayna’s 50 Word Short Story Challenge.
I couldn't find an image from my childhood, but I have very vivid memories of sitting in a tractor and being thrown about as it bounced across the field. I dedicate this story to my grandad, a man of few words, who I knew very little about as a child.
Find out about the contest here.
Image from Pixabay