Cecil & Old Glory
Cecil exited his Ford and stood before the old, run-down barn. A worn Old Glory still hung above the open cupola, defiantly surviving decades of sun, wind, and rain, yet looked in better condition than the barn. He remembered when the flag was brand new, waving against the morning sun as he and his cousins played tag beneath the Blue Angels streaking across the sky. Cecil smiled at the memories; he came a long way from being that scrawny kid with the grandpa glasses. Each step toward the barn transported him back in time, from epic super soaker battles, nerf ball throwing contests, family get-togethers, to the first time he laid eyes on Angie standing near the entrance, turning to meet his stupefied gaze. Cecil shook the thought and blinked away tears. He grasped the barn door and looked around. It was partially ajar and took some force to pry open completely. Despite the faint, musky smell and overgrown grass, the inside looked mostly the same. While the barn was used long ago for hay and livestock, Cecil’s father remodeled it in the late 90s. The bottom was a storage and recreational area with a pool table, couch, treadmill, kitchen, restrooms, and extra space to setup tables and chairs for gatherings. Upstairs was his father’s office and a foosball table. Cecil grabbed a pool stick and shot the 8-ball in a corner pocket. He milled around and stopped at the worn sofa.
