He sat on the hay bale and looked back to the house. Feeling so sad he could barely keep tears from coming. He was staring at his legacy, all of this lying before him. This place where he grew up, roamed the fields, fished the streams with his dad.
How could he give this up, remembering the adventures he shared with his brothers. They were pirates swinging on ropes in the hay barn, or racing paper built boats in the brook. He had to come up with an idea that would save these memories. He wanted his own children to have these experiences.
He was only twenty, he didn’t even have a girlfriend. He was too busy struggling with classes at the community college and working at a laborious job to pay for it. He had no time for luxuries, and now this. The death of his father brought more than sorrow. It meant the farm could no longer be supported by family funds. How could this be, having to let go of this land, this life?
The real estate agent was pressuring him for a decision. The problem was he didn’t think he was capable of deciding.