DEAF JED - a story in 100 words

DEAF JED

For twelve years Deaf Jed cleared his ten-mile stretch of track. He cut back invading undergrowth in spring and summer, carted away sacks of leaves in autumn, swept snow in winter.

Tired of the daily trek from town, he built himself a shack with timber that fell from the wagons, and lived there happily with his dog.

Scruff could hear the trains that Jed couldn’t and kept him safe - until that day in forty-three when he smelled a bitch in heat.

Trains no longer run on that track, but people say Scruff still patrols his stretch, whining for Jed.

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Thanks, as always, to
 https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/
for the photograph that prompted this week's story. 
Follow the blue frog trail on her blog to read other writers' takes on the prompt.

RABBITS - Friday Fiction

RABBITS

When we were boys – before the war – we loved harvest-time.

We would surround the last stand of wheat armed with sticks to kill the rabbits as they made a dash for freedom, then we’d ride on top of the loaded wagon, shooting with our stick-guns at mothers and sisters, yelling, “Bang! You’re dead!” and throwing them the rabbits to make stew.

Now we hide between the bales armed with rifles to shoot the soldiers, and then flee like rabbits to the caves where we cook our own dinners.

They should have left our mothers and sisters alone.

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Please feel free to comment, and to browse.

Friday fictioneers write 100 word stories each week prompted by a photograph posted on Rochelle's Blog;

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

Do follow the link to read the other stories;

http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=369046