the sound of change

As he looked over the empty fields, he couldn't describe the feeling. It had always been filled. Always. Even when times were tough, the farm had always had it's livestock. He heavily sat down on the stump he usually used to chop firewood, and just listened to the silence. No braying sheep, no sounds from the chicken coop. It was all just so quiet.

The sound of change. went through his mind. Apparently the sound of change was a lot softer than one would imagine. It wasn't a war, it wasn't bombs going off, or sirens warning of air raids. It wasn't bullets flying through the air, ripping through a friend not two feet away. It was the sound of no animals being held captive for their eggs, their milk, their meat.

It was so much quieter than one would think.