#FiveSentenceFiction: Fresh

GloriousWe drove from Flagstaff, and took Route 89 North, under the volcano, our sights on the snow capped San Francisco range.

Soon, in the direction of the Wupatki ruins, home of the Water clan, we saw the Painted Desert in its splendour, stretching as a thin rainbow on the horizon.

We stopped at the Sunset Crater: there you said the ground was alive, with the spirit of your ancestors.

1064 was the year of the great eruption, and after a millennium, the trees are back, their roots deep in the dark grey lava.

Then I said I loved your home, and your smile took me to heaven.

 

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