This is based off a picture from the Great Depression. (8th grade humanities)
A long road. Stretching as far as the eye can see. Just fields to keep it company. Hours go by and not a soul is there. All is silent.
Then in the distance a lonely man walks down the lonely road. He keeps a slow steady pace. But no matter what he keeps moving on. The only sound is his footsteps. He wears his only pair of jeans, all dirty and worn from hard labor and bad conditions. A button down shirt that was once white has turned a sort of yellowish, with dirt stains everywhere. He is saving his only other shirt for when he is in the city. Looking for a job. On top of his shirt he has on a jean jacket. It is dirty from being his only means of shelter. It protects him from the dirt and wind during the day and the cold during the night. He also wears an old hat, worn with age. It was once his fathers.
On his back he carries a pack. In his pack he has all his worldly possessions. Everything he has left is in that pack. It is his food, his warmth, and his friend. It is home. He carries his whole life on his back. He carries it heavily.
He is tired but his feet keep going. He never stops. He’s a machine. He follows the worn down road as far as it will take him. He never stops. Soon he is just a speck in the distance. One single dot protruding from all that flat dry land. Traveling away down the lonely road. Then he’s gone, like he was never there. Once again it is silent. Just the road and the field.
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