Here's my 99-word story. Please note, this is a gardening theme, not an art theme. I was a gardener long before I was an artist. And yes, it's fiction. Although my ex-husband did once give me a vermicomposter...
It was one of those shy spring days, mud-spattered, chill breeze whispering a thousand deep-green promises. He met me out back, stepping carefully in his treasured Italian loafers.
I knew what he wanted. I'd seen the receipts. I knew her glossy blonde name.
“I need someone who suits my lifestyle,” he said, “someone who maybe gets a manicure once in a while.”
I clasped my dirty fingers and sighed. This man had given me a vermicomposter for our anniversary. Returning to my shovel, I was comforted. Alimony buys a lot of perennials. Italian loafers make excellent compost.