My Plot 4c4928a285b4288e16e0ca39cda46911

At the age of eighteen, I was given a wife, farming tools, a hut, and a plot of land equal to that of all the others.

I was given a choice of bok choy, amaranth, water spinach, or Napa cabbage to grow. I chose water spinach.

My plot was a success, year after year. I learned much from the old man keeping the plot to my left and the younger man keeping the plot ahead of me.

I did not like the man keeping the plot to my right. He grew amaranth. Its leaves are healthy but its blooms irritated my nose and throat. I called it pigweed.

I asked him to choose a different vegetable. He laughed at this. He had no respect for my crops. He had no respect for my skills as a farmer.

This man was too familiar with my wife. I quarreled with her, disturbing the peace of our home. I quarreled with him, disturbing the peace of my plot.

When my son became eighteen, he was given my plot because my back no longer allowed me to use my hoe effectively. My son ripped up the water spinach and planted amaranth.

for Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner

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5 Responses

  1. A patchwork of fields never crossed my mind. Nice use of the image as an interesting story base!

  2. thanks. turns out i wasn’t the only one.


  3. I liked your take Joe.

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