Overgrowth – 50 Word Thursday

Her wrists ached as she heaved another clod of dried earth with her rusty shovel. Branches, like gnarled witches fingers, raked at her hair.

She had never imagined it would be a whole year before she came back to this.

“Sodding weeds.” She grumbled, grimly eying the indefatigable buddleia ahead.

11 thoughts on “Overgrowth – 50 Word Thursday

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