Barn | D. Beth McGraw

He leaned on his pitchfork and gazed up at the ceiling. The sunlight filtered in through an opening in the loft and he could see dust swirling slowly around as it fell to the ground. Everything here seemed so peaceful. In his mind he could almost hear the children laughing and yelling as they played their games in the big, red bard and around the yard. Those were good times, he thought to himself. It was so long ago, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since those golden days of catch the flag and hide and go seek.

There had come a day that he would never forget. The telephone in the hallway ringing,and his wife callapsing into a chair with her hands over her face. The days following that were a blur. He remembered the mohagany wood gleaming beautifully in the sunlight as friends and family hugged his wife nad shook his hand. He had sat in his truck holding that folded flag tightly against him trying to sort out all the thoughts going through his mind.

He slowly turned the latch to the door of the old barn. The building was badly in need of painting. He could no longer do it himself and there was no one to help him, soon he knew would come more changes. He thought of all the memories connected with this old barn and couldn't help but smile as he turned and walked back into the house.