Fifteen years had passed since Scott last passed the silo on the edge of his parents property. Last time, he was going in the opposite direction as fast as he could, creating a dust cloud on the old dirt road in an attempt to shroud away his past. Now, he stood on the side of the road looking at it, trying to remember exactly what it was that he and his father fought about that caused the rift and why he held onto it so tightly.
That’s the problem with time, it doesn’t heal all wounds.
A Flash of Fiction... 
Well written. It draws on the past and the present. 🙂
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I’ve been there. After fifteen years: what’s the point?
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Good story. I think many people can relate (and not remember what the fight was about).
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Often times, it is the first casualty of a fight. Hrm.. I might have to use that in something…
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Dear R. Todd,
The last line says it all. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks.
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