Here Somewhere

flash fiction

Yard Waste
By Monty Wheeler

“Here somewhere! My memory’s faded as a damned old photograph! Mama? Do you remember where . . .?”

“I don’t. It was close to the walk. Can’t you find the hair?”

“It’s been so long, the scent’s gone from the air.”

“Well, Daddy, we can’t put the swing set here. Jenny might have a bad nightmare.”

Daddy laughed and said, “I swear. You’d think I’d see Grandma’s gray hair.”

“When you find her . . .” Mama pointed to the cesspool. “I’ve good idea. Dig up Grandma; put her there.”