Amelia

Mr Davenport had driven us out of town. I felt a bit sleepy but curiousity kept me awake.

Finally we came to a stop at a small farm. It was located in a partly lonely area. There weren't a lot of houses or people around.

The car was quiet, waiting for what he wanted to show us.

Surveying the farmland carefully, we finally did.

A tanned, tired looking, young man dressed in torn denim shorts and a grey vest stood chopping wood with an obviously blunt axe. As he chopped wood, he simultaneously tried to keep an eye on the grazing cows a few feet away from him.

I...