This week’s challenge brought us to a farm of our imaginings. Somehow, I pictured one of Oma Rochincco’s sisters toiling in her garden.

Speaking Spell

A tale told in 99 words for Carrot Ranch

Written by Kerry E.B. Black

“These are special.” 

The old woman knelt beside rows of blood-red flowers, hand-gathering the seeds from their black centers. With a silver blade, she nicked the stems on opposing sides, near the head and below the leaves. Sap bubbled around the wounds. She continued these ministrations until she’d gathered from and scored the occupants of the entire flower bed. 

She brushed loamy soil from her knees and collected her basket. “They’re grown from the blood of fallen heroes.”

Once the sap dried, she’d gather the resin. “A spell made with these will allow us to commune with the dead.”