photo by Emiel Molenaar
The sweet smell of freshly cut grass was abruptly interrupted by the stinging scent of diesel still lingering around the old red tractor.
Many years it had kept the sea of green in order, but recently its blades had begun to dull with age.
“Couldn’t have asked for a better day,” the tractor had thought as it coughed and sputtered to its final rest amidst the sweet summer smell of its freshly cut field.
Some words for 3 Line Tales