“The day was bright, the temperature mild. Many traveled the Raleigh road this day. I remained among the trees, safe from prying eyes. The thick soles of my modern shoes made the walk easy. It was mid-morning as I passed the turnoff to the farm where I was born and had lived until I was ten. My footsteps slowed, nerves fluttering. My brother’s care for the property was evident. Fences had been mended. The lane had been cleared. The sight of it made me pant with homesickness. What would my recept...ion be if I visited? Without reflecting on my decision, I turned onto the lane and reached the yard moments later. There was a stillness to the farm, as if it awaited something. Caleb’s wife appeared in the door, a basket in hand. The edge of her cap shaded her eyes. Otherwise, I suspect she would’ve seen me instantly. She left the porch and made a turn toward the vegetable garden. With a whip of her head, she glanced my way and halted. Her smile held polite curiosity. “Hello?” “Hello, Frances.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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