Dressed in his Sunday best, a black suit and wide brimmed hat, the old farmer stood in the corner. He rubbed his hand across his temples to ease the headache.
“He’s in my room again, Mom.” Jorrel had made his way across the wide expanse of the newly renovated building and into his mother’s bedroom. Earlier that morning, satisfied that she had found what she was looking for, she finished researching the old Shaker barn that was now their home. On the death certificate was written, “Decapitation by thresher.”
***This was written for Six Sentence Stories. Using six sentences …no more, no less. The cue this week is BEAMS. This is about the renovated Shaker barn that is now my home.