Treasured Tomatoes

As I prepare to write flash fiction every day for the month of April (my #AtoZChallenge commitment) I am practicing by using Sunday Photo Fiction. Check them out here.This is a weekly challenge. They provide an image, and we write a story of 200 words or less, inspired by that image. The picture is posted on Sunday, so I am incredibly late to join the party. 

(UPDATE: The Sunday Photo Fiction website changed their requirements to make it impossible for me, an anonymous blogger, to join the official link party. I'm EXTREMELY disappointed by this, but whatever. Their blog, their rules.) 
 
Here is the picture from Sunday, March 24:

Photo credit: pensivity101

Treasure stared at the tomato plants in front of her. It was just a row of plants along the side of the house. She liked the spots of red among the tall greens. She could breathe when she came out to the garden. Treasure squatted down, holding her little plastic bucket with both hands between her ample bosom. She felt a couple of the reddening tomatoes. They were quite hard still, not yet ready to bring in. Her eyebrows knitted in consternation. He wanted tomatoes! What could she do?

From the squat, she dropped onto the ground and sat cross-legged in front of the plants. She would wait. For riper tomatoes or for an idea. Her husband’s shouts into the phone came through the window above her. Gingerly, she reached up and touched the bruise on her cheekbone. She hated when he yelled. It never meant anything good for her. He had to have tomatoes.

Inspiration struck. She rose back into a squat and plucked a few of the larger, green tomatoes. Fried green tomatoes. That would satisfy his appetite. 

Maybe. 

Hopefully.

With four tomatoes in her bucket, Treasure headed back inside, cringing at the volume of his anger.

Word count: 199