The window above the sink looked out toward the red barn.

The pink survey flags were barely visible against the dead winter grass.

Walt came back onto the enclosed back porch.

The heavy screen door slammed shut behind him.

He sat down on a small wooden bench and started kicking off his mud-stained work boots.

I picked up a clean dish towel and walked out to the porch to hand it to him.

His knuckles were raw and red from the cold.