Be sure to go to Six Sentence Stories: Grave to read the stories of others who have joined in with this blog hop this week.
The road, if you could call it that, was a steady climb and followed the edge of the pasture along the property line and then across the hill at the tree line where the land hadn't been cleared. Then the road took a curve and began another ascent, this time through the forest, toward a higher cleared field beyond the firs and the oaks. She appreciated the coolness of the shade offered by the trees as she and brother herded the sheep toward the pasture, but there was always one spot beside the road, that caused her imagination to run amok. It was just around the next curve in the road where the land was a little flatter. It was such an immense boulder almost shoulder high---pretty high when you are eight. In her young mind, she thought the massive rock was a tombstone placed over a grave, but who died, and why?