One Last Look (Fiction) (Transferred from WordPress Blog, Originally Posted 7-4-14)

As the sign was changed from “For Sale” to “Sold,” one of the boy said, “C’mon Dad, It’s getting cold.”  The man, you see, had gotten old.  As he readied his step into the car he stopped and he looked at a lifetime built on two and a half acres of Missouri hillside.  “I’m sorry, Dad, I can read your face.  I know you’re going to miss this place.”  “Bah!” The old man said as he tightened and stiffened.  “Let me tell you boys something, and you ought to listen.”  You see I’ve noticed lately that the stars at night, they really don’t seem to twinkle THAT bright.  And this year, you see that elm down the way, why-it didn’t bloom this spring ’til almost May.  The fireflies have been extra slow and did you notice the flakes were a little smaller when it snowed.”  The old man’s face began to soften as he continued “the deer, they ate up all my peas and rubbed the bark off the willow trees.”  His pace quickened “And, and I can barely sleep at night with these crickets and bullfrogs and bright moonlight.  Boy, oh boy, won’t I be glad when those turkeys gobblin’ don’t drive me mad, when I don’t have to look at another field sprout and bloom then yield its yield.”  He began to break down.  “I feel better already boys, let's leave this place just how it is, a memory now.”