Genre: Metaphorical fiction
Word Count: 100
A GIRL NAMED IVY
He was the rock upon which she depended, and she the roots that kept him grounded. Her shoots started out tiny and controllable. He drip-fed them and kept her all to himself, pruning her into shape with his clipped truth.
Over time, his credibility diminished and her urge to grow escalated. “I want to see the sun,” she told him, as she clawed at his shade.
“It will burn you up,” he said, knowing that she was about to knock the top off his world.
She reached for the sky, eroding and suffocating him.
Behold that ruin she can’t escape.
Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo Prompt: copyright © Roger Bulltot