Tough-looking muscled men chopped the trees, cutting nature’s artwork to make way for furniture. Loud women worked with them, chatting and laughing. The little one hid behind the trees, glad that she had no legs. She was scared that they would find her out. She nibbled on the cakes and fruits they had left in the corner. It was the same every year; she longed for new cream cakes and pastries. She paused, startled. A man came quite close to her. If the little one had a heart, it would have thudded. But, she had died 5 years ago.
This was written for Charli’s Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge.
call2read 
Very curious write. It does make the reader think, that is for sure!
Thank you, Amy. We are scared of the ghosts…perhaps they are scared of us too.
The photo prompt inspired me to write about the hungry ghost month festival in Singapore. It starts in August and ends by the 9th of September. People light candles and leave cakes and oranges for the dead.
Thank you for the explanation. Fascinating!!
It seems perhaps she speaks for the trees. Or would, if she could.
I guess she would have supported nature conservation for sure. Thank you for the like and the comment:)
Eerie and yet meaningful in the way she still lingers and feels for the exploited trees.
She probably lingers as her worldly desires are unfulfilled. Thank you for the read and the comment, Charli.
Sad and chilling both.
I am glad the story made an impact.on you. Thank you for commenting, Norah.
I like this story. So short, but so vivid.
Thank you very much, Chrissie:)