Marie Smysor Watson
perishable - 100 words
Thanks, Sam, for this week's awesome word! You're living proof that thirteen-year-old boys aren't all bad (wink-wink)... I've decided to use the word I'm provided as the title of each story in the 100 words series, so I've updated last week's title and description to reflect that choice. Enjoy!
She was unloading the perishables from the sturdy canvas bags when she found it, nestled between the clamshell of organic strawberries and a robust head of lettuce. It shone dully in the brightness of her newly remodeled kitchen. Where it came from, she couldn’t say.
She abhorred guns and the death that followed, having grown up in a place where blood and violence were a valued part of life. It was a surprise then, when she automatically slipped the bullet into her pocket. It rested near her hip, a talisman to ward off danger or memory, whichever she might choose.