We supposed that the old man knew perhaps we were wrong to assume. The day that we came he seemed confused perhaps we were wrong to assume. He had lived there all his life it would seem wrong to him to move, the latch key turned and the door closed the old man shuffled out onto the porch. He was leaving his land, his dreams, his memories the woman he loved, died there the family they raised played there. Where would he go now. A leaf crossed his path and was carried on the wind, his dreams and future followed.