This is my first time participating in Aheila's Drabble Day. This week's prompt was garden:
The sun was hot on Ed's back, and he took off his hat, wiped the sweat from his forehead. The tilling was difficult, the soil rocky, but he did what he was told. He would be stupid not to.
He looked to his left, where exhaustion had brought Clyde to the ground, his face resting in the warmth of the earth. Ed longed to put his head down and sleep, never mind the tilling, the planting. Never mind the death.
But he wouldn't be stupid.
He jumped as he heard the click of the gun behind him. "Work!" someone shouted, and he picked up his shovel.