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Iron Range – Part 02

By Linc

Note: This story originally appeared on LockedMEN. It is being shared here with permission.

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The heat of summer was well underway, and things had finally slowed enough that weekends started feeling like weekends again: shorter days, lighter work.

During the midday sun, when no one wanted to move more than they had to, Jack sat beside Ethan on the porch, drinking nothing stronger than sun-brewed sweet tea.

“Been meaning to ask,” Jack said, tipping his glass. “That barn — it belong to a neighbor? I know we don’t have livestock.”

“Still mine,” Ethan replied. “Nearest neighbor’s a mile off, easy.”

Jack squinted toward the fields. “How big is this place, anyway? I’ve been working it, but if someone asked me, I don’t think I could even guess.”

“Just over five hundred acres,” Ethan said, like it wasn’t much.

“So what’s it for then, if it’s not for livestock?”

“Storage, mostly. Used to be my dog’s spot during the day — back when I had one. He didn’t like it when I got too far off. I needed him somewhere out of the way. Safe from the equipment.”

Continue reading Iron Range – Part 02

Iron Range – Part 01

By Linc

Note: This story originally appeared on LockedMEN. It is being shared here with permission.

Jack stepped off the bus with a grunt, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. The Minnesota air hit him like a slap — crisp and clean, with the faint scent of pine and chimney smoke.

He adjusted the bag, its weight a dull throb in his shoulder — eight pounds of nostalgia in the form of books, old electronics, and private indulgences. His laptop alone — stuffed with saved articles, annotated stories, and folder names he’d never say out loud — might as well have had a neon sign on it: Escapist with a wi-fi addiction.

Now there was no signal. Just gravel underfoot and a mile-long driveway between him and the farmhouse.

The structure rose in the distance like a memory of another century — broad porch, smoke curling from a chimney, silence thick enough to drown in. Jack squinted up at the steel roof catching the last of the sunset. The place looked more fortress than farm. He could already feel his city softness recoiling. But he needed this.

Continue reading Iron Range – Part 01