Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table

Nothing was left but the black scuff marks from my work boots.

The farm was completely empty.

I owned nothing here anymore, and the developer owned the dirt.

I walked out to the barn and slid the huge wooden door along its iron track.

The inside still smelled of dried alfalfa and old tractor grease.

The stalls were completely bare.

I pulled the door shut and snapped a heavy brass padlock through the metal hasp.

I walked back to the office and pulled the heavy front door shut behind me.