“Come here, girl,”
the blue coat shouted.
Betsy ran, but not
fast enough. The Yankee captain grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“Let go of me, you beast!” Her heart beat faster than a
Kentucky race horse.
“Sweetheart, what
did you bury in the garden?”
When she struggled,
he pressed her against his chest. “Don’t try to deny it, sweetie. The ground is
fresh turned.”
“The old dog.” She spat in his face.
He swore, shoving
her away. “I don’t believe you.”
“Dig it up,
yourself. I was afraid your soldiers would eat it. They’ve eaten everything
else.”
Now I hope
you’ll read what the others wrote: www.facebook.com/WonHundredWords/photos/a.1697701293793386.1073741827.1697271893836326/1878383532391827/?type=3&theater
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