The Harvest

She looked helplessly at Matt. Did he understand?

But he seemed to. She thought perhaps he had known it all along.

She looked east, where the stars were rising in a dark sky. “It’s been getting greener as we go,” Beth said. “And warmer.”

These nights weren’t as cold as they had been. Matt said, “Maybe it’ll be a gentle summer.”

Gentler in Ohio? Greener, warmer?

“I think so,” Matt said.

“I would like that,” Beth said, wanting to cry for no particular reason. “I think that would be good.”