FRIDAY: Meant to Last

BY SHARON FRAYNE

Copyright is held by the author.

“See . . . way up there . . . that’s where David hung himself. Climbed up the ladder to the hay loft, tied a rope around his neck and jumped off that big beam.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mary couldn’t bear to look where Peter was pointing. “This must be heartbreaking for you. I guess you’ll want to tear down this old building. Looks as if it’s on its last legs anyway.”

“David never liked living here after we moved out from the city. Couldn’t stop thinking of all the animals that were butchered between these walls. Said it smelled like pig shit. Said a good storm would bring the whole thing crashing down.”

He turned away and walked over to the open window. From there, he could look across the western field where long evening shadows were stealing the golden light. Pigeons were winging into the open loft to settle before dark. Peter turned around and gazed at the broken roof overhead where the last beams of sun filtered through.

“But I always thought it was built to last.”

He picked up a cracked board that had dropped on the barn floor and broke it in two, sending splinters flying.

“Just like us.”

 

Post a comment

You may use the following HTML:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>