He had bones in his backyard.
His plot of land was huge enough, out here in the bush, and private enough for no one much to notice. But every morning, he got up, went through his daily routine, and ventured out into his backyard looking for more.
His land was rich in tiny fossils, and he thought they must belong to something. Every morning, he would settle against a certain rock, big enough and flat enough to act as a table, take in his surroundings, and search.
He always found hundreds of tiny bones and fragments in a morning’s work.
I call this piece, “The Search”. This was a Friday prompt from Madison Woods‘ blog.