Flash Fiction: The Killing Tree

Chastity Molokomme hung from her wrists in the bow of the jacaranda tree. Small purple flowers drifted down like a rare south African snow, and our blood pooled where the trunk met the copper Rhodesian earth.

Men laughed.

One ate sadza from a wooden bowl while Veterans held bloodied machetes and watched with hardened yellow eyes. Behind a blair, a former lieutenant grunted, thrusting against a woman pinned down, his retired green uniform dark with sweat.

Chastity licked at parched lips.

I lay und...