It’s Wednesday and snowing big times here in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. It’s a good day for storytelling.  What better venue than the Friday Fictioneers. We like to tell stories of 100 words to a photo prompt.  We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.  Here is my story.


I sat at the base of the tree, cradled by two roots. I gazed across the pond. Right out there in the middle was where my brother and I got stuck. We were chasing the water buffalo with sticks. We didn’t get very far before we couldn’t go at all. We had to be rescued. Boy, did mother give it to us after! We were soaked and caked in mud.

Those were the good memories. What haunted me still was the memory of my grandmother being publicly humiliated and persecuted by the village under this very tree many years ago.

23 thoughts on “UNDER THE TREE, BY THE POND

  1. The first paragraph had me imagining a sweet, humorous picture of siblings innocent and mischievous in their youth, but then you hit me with that second paragraph and now everything hurts 😦 I was not expecting that twist and you wove it well!

    1. My grandmother was really humiliated and persecuted. It was because my grandfather escaped to HK. It was the times of Mao. Thanks for reading.


  2. Snowing! Glad we have already made our way back to Arizona after spending the summer in Alberta. But wait, you will have a great winter wonderland at Xmas and I will be stuck with desert. Loved the story. To me, the message was that sadness and bad memories will lurk below the surface of even happy times.

    1. Thanks! I love the desert. I’ve only spent one month in Lake Havasu couple years back. Hope to make another trip again. But we’re here for the cold this year.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.