Short Stories - The Mill

Deep in the heart of Missouri, there was an old mill at the base of a mountain. Every day, the miller and his son would go up to the mill to grain flour. They would spend hours in this mill. Summer, winter, fall, spring, snow, rain, and shine, they were always there.

The town at the base of the mountain depended heavily upon that old mill which was built a hundred years ago. The town was cut off from the outside world. The only food they had was what they grew.

A storm on the horizon started to form. The townspeople didn’t think anything of it because they’d had dozens of storms before. For, after all, they did live in the Ozarks. But this storm would be different.

The wind began to blow, the thunder and lightning ripped through the heavens, and worst of all, a tornado! The tornado ripped through the center of town, tossing and destroying anything in its path.

Finally, the tornado reached the mill, tossing the brinks in every which way. The turbines were ripped to shreds.

The next day, the man and his son visited their mill. It was a total loss. Barely any foundation was left. They scraped together what grain they could salvage. They then sold the rest. It would take months, even years, to rebuild their business, let alone their mill.

The town was panic-stricken! Their only source of flour was that old mill. The wheat the farmers grew would have to be gained by hand, which was a strenuous task.

The man and boy continued to clean up the ruins of their old mill that had been destroyed. The mill there ancestries built with their own hands and sweat. While the boy was moving some bricks, he noticed some bricks buried beneath them. He didn’t remember bricks being under the dirt floor when the mill was still standing.

The boy began to dig the bricks out until finally, he found a hole. He motioned for his father, and the two of them cleared the mouth of the hole. The boy ran and grabbed a lantern and stuck it into the hole. The two of them looked inside the pit. It was filled with large sakes.

One by one, they began to pull the sacks out of the hole. When they got all the sacks out of the hole, they opened one of the sacks and much to their surprise, it was filled with flour!

They began to investigate their once familiar dirt floor of their mill for more hidden chambers. By the end of the day, they had found three more chambers filled with nothing but flour. Their ancestors had saved a little bit of flour every time they made some and stashed in these airtight chambers for an emergency situation.

The man and his son had enough flour to keep them in business while they rebuilt the mill. From that day forward, they always made sure to save a little flour for a time they would need it the most.

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A little about me: I’m a film student who loves to entertain and tell stories! I also have a deep appreciation for art. All the photos you see were taken by me. One of my goals in life is to provide family-friendly entertainment that is both fun and inspiring. If you would like to get in touch with me, you can do so on my website!