Farming: Study II

Summer was coming to a close. She waited for word that it was her turn to leave. Instead, unannounced, her father picked her up from the farm one afternoon.  Once in the car, she slouched down into the seat and against the car door for comfort.  Even though they both knew it would anger her mother greatly, her father let her roll down the window for the trip and let the wind tangle her long dark hair out into the darkening horizon.  She cupped her hand to catch the rush of sweet evening air rising from the pastures and leaned her ear onto the cool metal door to listen to the roar of the car growling over old broken roadway. When she saw a moment flickering magically beyond the road – somewhere out in the fields – she would blink hard.  She wanted to remember the beautiful images forever, all the beautiful parts really, and not the difficult things that nearly broke her.  She wanted to fill her mind with late summer light and the lazy chirp of drowsy crickets.  She let the passing landscape  swallow the bad moments until all that was left was her, a dirty, tired, gnatty headed girl calmed by the soothing roll of the land across the plains.


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