She stood on the crest of the hill; watched the children playing in the valley below near the long unused logging road. It’d been six years since she’d seen a truck traverse that old road; six years since John’s accident. It was mostly overgrown with weeds now, barely noticeable as a road at all.
Life without John–life as a single mother–was hard. All too often there wasn’t enough food to feed both children and herself so she’d go without.
With tears in her eyes she nudged the pile of precariously stacked boulders over the edge.
“Goodbye, my sweets.”
Adam Ickes 