Their marriage was good. They had dreams.
He wanted a farm.
She needed space; wide open space to breathe.
Their friends lived on the adjoining farm.
Dad rode his tractor in cover-alls, a plaid shirt and a straw hat Mama made him.
Mama’s floral house-dress draped with her home sewn apron, worn proudly, was as stylish as she wanted to be.
She’d carry brother on her hip while holding a wash cloth in her other hand.
It was a time for fixing things. Things we kept forever. Things we treasured.
It was a way of life they loved.
Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt: Nathan Sowers
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