By NickMog


It was the kind of tree that you could easily imagine hiding a treasure trove or standing as a marker above a loam-stained skeleton and, as chance would have it, its roots ran through the ribs of a buried body and between a hatful of golden coins.

But this was chance upon chance.

The man who planted the body beneath the tree - hoping to keep it safe from the uncovering blade of the plough - did not notice the gold that scraped against the steel of his spade and when he filled in the grave, he covered treasure and corpse together.

Sign in or get an account to comment.