The Farm My Wife Left Me

my disappearance.

The Drive to the Farm

I left Los Angeles before sunrise.

One duffel bag.

A framed wedding photo.

Jenny’s gray cardigan folded carefully beside me.

The farther I drove, the quieter the world became.

Traffic disappeared.

Billboards vanished.

Concrete turned into open land.

When I finally reached Preston Farm, it looked exactly how Marcus described continue reading …