I SAT IN T H E BARN WINDOW. It was Friday night - the first night I'd been home for three months—the first night for three months that I'd seen my brother, Rog, or helped him with the chores or sat in the barn window like this with my knees propped up in front of me. I leaned my head against the pitted side sill and looked up...
"A Farm Is Life,"
Sketch: Vol. 20
, Article 9.
Available at: http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol20/iss2/9