Freedom Breeze walked this track to the produce market every Saturday.
This morning she dawdled behind her parents, enjoying the sensation of being as big as the forest, as insignificant as a leaf. Trees, earth, sky – all were one. In their commune such understandings were carefully taught.
Last year, in her garden, Freedom discovered a startling gift – a pointy-leafed vegetable she picked to sell with her lettuces. When James, the policeman’s son, had seen it, he’d paid generously and sworn her to secrecy.
Today her backpack bulged with cash, and the wonderful leaves. Tonight, she’d be on the 8:00pm city train, and she wasn’t coming back.
This is another story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 100 word stories are submitted in response to a weekly photo prompt. You can read them all here.