Another failed entry to the "Flash Fiction" thing. The rules are very simple; The "story" has to be less than 150 words and feature a particular prompt word (which is the one in brackets).
WHAT YOU LEAVE BEHIND (fern)
WHAT YOU LEAVE BEHIND (fern)
One came from Boston, the other was bought
at a garden centre to remind the first of her faraway home.
When you're a long way away, and for some
time, a fern named after the place you come from is as good a substitute as
you’ll find, especially on a budget.
The affair they had was long on intensity,
and a little shorter than the semester itself, and when she flew back, they
promised to keep in touch, but both knew that they wouldn’t.
She left him the plant, saying it would be
a pleasant reminder of the time that they'd had together, explaining with
ice-cold precision, that she couldn't possibly have taken it, given the rules
on imports.
He watered it for a time, and watched as
the leaves turned to rust, before throwing it in the bin one morning after he'd
found himself in an unexpected clinch with a stranger on the front lawn of the
campus during finals week.
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