“I did it, Father… I chopped down your cherry tree.”
Washington gazed with misty eyes at the place where his father’s beloved tree had once stood. Now it was but a lifeless stump, but it set his mind ablaze with memories.
His wife laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “They want you to stay in office.”
He nodded, noting the delicate layer of frost upon the grass. Winter was coming. This nation would need a strong leader…but not him.
“We have suffered from too many kings already,” he said. “I must relinquish this honor. It’s the most… honest course.”
This week’s Friday Fictioneers Challenge? To artfully blend 100 words, the frosty photo above, and the category of “Historical Fiction” and follow this road to see where it leads…