The following is a featured 100-word story from the June Writing Challenge.
She sat in the yard, the long grass in desperate need of a trim tickled her bare calves as the hot summer sun beat down. Her chin was upturned, welcoming its warmth. For a while she simply sat in the yard under the sun, oblivious to all else in the mystifying, ambiguous world. She ignored her mother’s call for lunch; dinner, too. As the sun drifted down to kiss the horizon and pink began to flood the sky like blood in a hot bath, she opened her eyes and whispered, “Why won’t Daddy come back like the sun does everyday?”