Title: Pastures New
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of February 28, 2017
Words count: 175 words
When I was younger, I adored this video game series known as Harvest Moon, now re-titled Story of Seasons because of copyright reasons. I still play them, but now I always wonder… if most of the protagonists were from the city, how did they manage to pick up their farming skills so quickly?
“Why aren’t you – ”
She huffed. This idea originally sounded like paradise: leave the city, inherit Grandpa’s farm – be free! If only she’d known how to actually farm.
She could feel the cow’s reproachful stare as she pulled the udders again.
“Look, if you’d just milk – ”
“Cows can’t milk themselves, you know.”
She turned to glare at the newcomer. Before, she’d admired his broad shoulders and easy smile. Now, with his smirk, leaning against the railings, she wanted nothing more than to strangle him.
“Not my fault they aren’t – ”
He sighed. “Step aside, city girl. Let someone experienced show you how it’s done.”
“You’re two years older than me.”
“Do you want help or not?”
She stepped aside and watched him with begrudging admiration. He wasn’t bragging – he did know his stuff. And a lot more, actually. In the years that followed, he was patient, guiding her all the way. For that, she’d be grateful.
Him recounting this incident to their children fifteen years later though? That was another story.