Grandma shoved the signed deed into his pocket. “The land is yours.”
He removed the paper one last time and tore it. “Everyone will hate me.”
“The blessing of the gift is in the giving. Why would you take that from me?”
He hugged her close. “You are the gift.”
Writing for Jayna’s Fifty-Word Short Story Challenge.
A New Name
Eighteen weeks. Kosh still lives on my arm where he dug in, holding onto dear life. I see him there, fear wide in his eyes.
“Eviscerated.” The doctor’s face held no hope. There would be no salvation. A new name was read from the Book of Life.