Sunday Photo Fiction — The Sandbox
This post is in response to Sunday Photo Fiction.
His mother always punished him by making him go outside and play in the old sandbox. The sandbox was halfway down their long driveway directly under a catalpa tree with its large leaves and long bean pods. It was large sandbox measuring about 6 feet by 5 feet.
After his dad left them, she made him go there when she had “visitors”. He really didn’t mind as it gave him a chance to play with his bulldozer in the sand. He took some sick pleasure if his sister had been there before him. She would decorate the sandbox with stones and leaves which he loved to rake over when he arrived.
One day while a visitor was with his mother he heard shots and a woman scream. Running into the house he saw his mother with his dad’s old shotgun and a man lying on the floor bleeding profusely.
“Gary, she called. I need your help! We need to use that old sandbox.”
He helped her drag the body to the sandbox and with his skills as a bulldozer driver they covered the man with all the sand they could find. Gary finished the job by putting some stones and catalpa leaves so his sister would find the sandbox as she left it.