The old man wasn’t dead twenty-four hours when they started staking the land. The son had spent some years getting ready for the day, cutting deals with developers, drawing up maps of the various parcels, filling out the paperwork.

Development. That’s their word for when they down whatever was here and build some godawful boxes to sell.  Ryerson’s woods, the last piece of natural land in this county, 90+ acres of pristine wilderness and one ancient house.

They say they’re building a nature center. Great.  Kids will be able to look at pictures of the tress and animals and wonder why.


Friday Fictioneers