He hated to be the first one to leave, the first generation not to work the family farm. He had no choice because farmers had to have another job to survive. There were no other jobs where he lived in West Virginia.
The last time the greenhouse had been active was when his grandfather worked it. HIs father died young and didn’t have the chance. Now, to survive, he had to go to the city. No remote work either.
He took a last look at the old greenhouse. For an instant, he saw it thriving, but then it was gone.
For Friday Fictioneers. Thanks, Rochelle!
The Write Scribe 
Nothing is as it was. But then, perhaps, that was always so
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A sad time, but perhaps a new start?
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Maybe the next generation will revive it, who knows?
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Time’s change… unfortunately, it will never be the same again.
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Horticulture is not for everyone. For one thing, it has “work” written all over it. But excellent take on the prompt. 🙂
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Hard times for farmers.
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You took me back, to the days when many that I cared for, worked in the local factories, they also managed a hill farm, I tried to do so also.
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Farmers are the hardest workers yet the money made isn’t enough.
So many things can go wrong too. Such a sad thing to lose something historic.
Nicley written …
Isadora 😎
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The economics of farming is up against those that want to live and eat for free. A hard life, but can be so satisfying when it works.
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It is a tough life. Not everyone succeeds and there is so much unpredictability. Poor guy. Your story made me feel for the protagonist.
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It is painful to leave our precious roots behind, but life goes on 🙂
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That was very sad. And painful.
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Sad, but life does make these changes whether we want them or not.
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I hope he holds onto the property and his dream. One day he may be able to return and carry on the family tradition.
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A hard decision, but better a clean cut with a future for him. Maybe someone will rent or buy the property who can make it work again.
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