Sweat ran down Rodney’s arm, wetting the dry dirt surrounding him.
Rodney had hated carrots ever since his mother forced them down his throat when he was 3. It was his earliest, clearest memory.
After all of the planning, the pay-offs, the near mess up the night of … his partner hid the loot in a field.
Par for the course, his partner didn’t remember exactly where. ‘It must have gotten tilled up when they planted.’
He shuffled dirt around and tossed carrot after carrot into his pile until finally a dusty glimmer caught his eye.
Word Count: 99
For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch.
Idea: True Grit