The preacher and his wife, had been married fifteen years. Time had become their enemy until finally they were blessed with their first and only child. They were so grateful they named their cherubic daughter, Grace. She was a kind and docile child who sang like a bird. As young as four, she would sit in the garden in their backyard chanting. Sunflowers and daisies had become her audience along with stray cats, squirrels, birds and even insects.

nature held hostage
bewitched
voice of an angel

© Tournesol ’16/02/26

Sunday Photo Fiction 86 words