He stood for the longest time, staring in mute sadness at all that remained of the barn he had helped his own father to build. Side by side, sweating as much blood as water, they had, constructed something from raw materials that was, upon completion, a structure they could both be justifiably proud of.
Of the many lessons his father had tried so fervently to teach him, one truism remained to him inviolate. While all else might change, the land was forever…respect the land. Gazing upon the ramshackle building, no longer a man but merely a spirit, he wished above all else he’d been able to teach his son that one simple thing his father had taught him so many years before.
This story was written for the weekly Friday Fictioneers weekly flash fiction prompt based upon a photo by Janet Webb.