CLAAANK! GRUTUTUTUT! Kaput.
“What now?” groaned Donald, tipping over the mower.
These knees aren’t for bending down these days. What’s this? Ouch, wait… His hand felt for and teased out the culprit.
Her writing shed key: shining silver against his wrinkly palm.
Happy Birthday, My Love.
Oh, just want I’ve dreamed of! Thank you!
You deserve it, Darling.
Judith really had. She hadn’t deserved leaving without having written a word in it.
Donald wrapped the key in his palm and took a breath.
With all his strength, he threw it over the fence; last saw it flying in the sunshine.
100 words, excluding title
This story was written from the prompt at Julia's Place and her 100-word writing challenges. This week's prompt was the above photo.