It was a beautiful day in the Indiana farmland. The sun shone softly on the golden fields, making the corn stalks, freshly broken from harvest, look like gold. It illuminated the slowly changing colors on the trees that separated each field, and glinted off of the cars soaring down the highway past a two-story farmhouse. On days like this Elizabeth wondered how anyone could leave these welcoming fields. But the empty houses on the one street in their little town bore testimony to people’s ability to leave.
She shook her head and started walking to the barn. The death of small town communities was a topic of constant discussion in the community, and the words of her angry diatribe had worn grooves in her mind. There was no need to waste a beautiful fall day angry over something she couldn’t control.