C134 Andrew’s POV – 2010.

The house was much smaller, its wooden planks warped by time. Each breeze made the walls groan, and beyond the backyard, only dry grass clung to life. Inside, the air held the scent of aged wood—and faint traces of my father, though he was gone.

We had only the large soil he once dreamed would make him a wealthy farmer and gardener.

I lay beside my mother