|From Delores @ thefeatherednest|
The storage bin had been a part of the farm house as long as anyone could remember. Even back many generations, that bin was there, leaning up against the barn.
It used to store chicken feed. Farmer Gunter got rid of the chickens after a few decades.
Then the bin was used to keep coal before the farmer switched to propane. He cleaned the bin out and thought about how it could be used. He even asked his wife Bernadette what they should do with the empty bin.
Bernie launched into another harangue about him being too lazy to even think for himself, and then moved on to his other deficiencies. The list was long. Gunter stared at her blankly as she continued.
After some time, Gunter packed up his suitcase and gathered up all their money stored in the cellar since the Great Depression. As he passed by the bin, he patted the lid which sported shiny new nails all around the perimeter.
“You’re right, Bernie. I shoulda thought of this long ago.” Silence was his answer.