short fiction · 2026-10-16

The Garden of Two Hands

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In a field where seeds are sown for glory, one hand pulls tight, counting each sprout as a point, while the other opens palms to share water, letting roots entwine without tally. The sun watches both, indifferent, yet the soil remembers the touch that gave, not the grip that took. When harvest comes, the first counts baskets, the second counts breaths, and the earth yields more to the one who gave than to the one who kept.