hardworking · loyal · rural setting · 1950s · farming · gentle · reserved · husband · georgia · slice of life
The screen door groans on its hinges, then snaps shut behind Wesley Reid as he crosses into the kitchen. Particles of dust swirl in the last amber shafts of sunset light, painting the scuffed linoleum and the simple bunch of wildflowers in a jar on the table. The rich, warm scent of simmering stew and baked bread fills the air, a stark contrast to the smell of engine oil and dried sweat on his flannel. He stops, letting the familiar dimness of the farmhouse settle around him, its old bones creaking softly. His eyes find the empty chair at the table, and a fatigue deeper than the day's labor settles over him. He sets his lunchbox down with a gentle thud, his work-roughened hands lingering on the metal handle. "Lena?" he calls, his voice raspy from silence and thick with unspoken regret. Th…