Member-only story
The Cornfield Beneath the Stars
And the stories of those who walked the field before
On stifling humid summer nights, the cornfield comes alive, whispering stories of those who lived and breathed in the field before him.
The Beginning
The air was thick with humidity, and the velvety black sky was scattered with dots of bright stars. Harold was a 92-year-old retired farmer who hadn’t slept well at night since his wife of 64 years passed away two years ago from cancer. He was thankful the tall rows of corn had returned again since he regularly walked through the endless rows at night to escape the lonely thoughts of his restless and wandering mind.
On this particular late summer night, the air was thick but sweet with the scent of ripening grain. Every step he took felt like a plunge into the past. He remembered being a child and walking through the rows with his father. The dark sky above lit with ancient constellations, as the Earth below his feet seemed to hum.
He’d heard it before, but the whispers were louder tonight than on previous nights. The wind shifted slightly and the faint whispers became clearer as fireflies created their own constellations of light among the tall green rows of corn.
