Written for Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative
Challenge #072. I chose Pic #1.
Here’s where the image took me.
The wheelbarrow waited, patient as a predator. Its black belly had tasted things beyond mulch and leaves …. things the neighbors whispered about when Mrs. McGillicuddy’s garden bloomed luxuriously lush each spring.
She’d wheeled Old Man Jeffries there last November, his protests muffled by the composting bin’s rust-stained lid. Then the Thompson boy who’d peered over the fence once too often. The spade nearby still bore traces no rain could wash clean.
Tonight, screams echoed from the shed. The wheelbarrow’s handles gleamed with anticipation, ready for another midnight journey to the flower beds. By morning, only the watering can would remember, and it’s not talking.
Come spring, the roses would reveal their crimson secrets.
NAR©2026
This is “Digging In The Dirt” by Peter Gabriel
All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy’s Notes 🖊️🎶 and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 
Dead bodies make good fertilizer, because they are rich in essential nutrients for plant growth, such as nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium.
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Exactamundo, Jim! Mrs. McGillicuddy is a fertilizer expert!
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Super story, Nancy!
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Thanks, Chris. So glad you liked it!
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Shhh… cool
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Not a word. Thanks, Ron. 😎
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Great ending and song Nance 🙌
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Thanks, Ange. That song was made to order!
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I love a little murder mayhem!
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Oh, so do I. Thanks!
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Lots of strange things happen in the garden shed my friend …
Ripe Tomatoes and A Garden Spade
Only another week to go
I’ll be on the cruise
I’m not feeling nervous
More that I’m fearful
Scared my plan might go amiss
Before the high seas deliver bliss
Taking two suitcases is normal
Other passengers may have three
I won’t look suspicious
I’ve bagged her precisely
Chopped her into small pieces
Stored separately in the freezer
The old witch, I caught her trespassing
In my private courtyard
Stealing my precious cherry tomatoes
I whacked her with my garden spade
Across the top of her green head
I didn’t hit her too hard
She lay there bleeding, not dead
How dare she come into my yard
She’s pleading with me, no mercy I said
And I dragged her into the shed.
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Dear Ivor, is that one of your poems? It’s brilliant! A few years ago I wrote a story but it wasn’t about cherry tomato plants …. it was Colcannon, a delicious Irish dish.
Thank you! 🥰🎶
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Yes, it’s my first book “Tullawalla” haha, I had a girl friend at the time who gave the flick, and I was going on a cruise … and a poem resulted … of course the metaphor was that she had stolen my little heart and I felt like I needed to get rid of broken pieces 🥰💕😊
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Ah, of course! What else could it have meant! 😂
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🥰💕📖
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A cool story! I loved it! 🎈😉
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Thanks a bunch, CA!
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I love your story, and you chose a great song and video to go with it 👍
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Thanks so much, Clive. This was great fun and I’m delighted you liked it!
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great story and the ending was fun, “only the watering can would remember, and it’s not talking.”
that Peter Gabriel song was new to me and had a great beat!
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Thanks so much, Yvette! I had great fun writing this one and the song was made to order!
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Ooh, what a story.
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There’s no telling where my mind will go! Thanks, Sadje.
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