Friday, June 18, 2010

Barefoot

When Ella received the letter that the farm was sold to a developer, she made a trip home. It was the first time in the six years since her grandmother had died. Her blue Hyundai idled at the end of the driveway, a pink antenna ribbon blowing softly in the breeze. Ella sighed. A small reservoir of water collected in the lower lids of her eyes as she looked toward the ceiling and took another deep breath. She'd loved her grandparents' farm as a child. She practically grew up there while her parents cavorted across the country trying to sell their musical talents.

Memories floated through her mind: reading Little House on the Prairie while sitting on the thick branches of the oak tree; treasure hunting in the hay for newborn kittens; long games of Red Rover barefoot in the grass; playing hide and seek in the cornfields; listening to the soft shifting of grains in the silo; dandelion bouquets filling the house. Every little thought trickling through her mind was an ode to her grandparents. Six years later, she was finally mourning the loss of them.

*** One Minute Writer ***

3 comments:

  1. Bitter sweet. A nice memoir piece. I have read other things you have written about this farm. I think you could write a memoir about it.

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  2. It's my favorite way to write... fact and fiction all mixed up together. Yes, I loved that farm. It doesn't exist anymore. The developer has turned it into suburbia.

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  3. Now that is really sad. All the sunflowers gone.

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