It was yet another manic Monday in the office. There were mountains and mountains of paper work to be completed and signed and collated. This was not the life Aisleigh had imagined when she had moved to the big, bright city to start her career. She had thought being an artist would be more freeing, liberating, and a chance to express herself in ways she had only thought about. The down side; she had not imagined was all of the paperwork. All of the self-promotion. All the non-artistic bureaucratic monotony that come with self-publicizing. It was getting to the point to where she was no longer inspired by everyday life. All the beautiful intricacies that had once fascinated her to no end, was now just bland, grey, and boring.

She sat at her desk, staring at her computer screen as it hummed quietly. The light shined brightly on her face. It was almost too bright in her dark secluded office, that she had started to bring a cheap pair of sunglasses with her. Sighing, she leaned down towards the floor to pick up her bag. The leather of the handle was crisp, almost as if it had never been used. She had used it before, however, when she had moved into the city. She bought the purse as a fresh way to celebrate a new start almost a year ago. Plopping her stiff bag onto her lap, she let out another sigh. Was this really the way she was going to become the artist she had always wanted to be? She threw her head back, her long dark brown hair cascading behind her, as she slipped on her sunglasses and continued to stare blankly at her computer.

"Anything new today, cyberspace?" She asked herself as she slowly moved her mouse over, double clicking on the internet icon. Opening the homepage, her social media popped up. It showed a bright, sunny young woman smiling. In her hands, she held a small pottery bowl. It was her most prized procession at the time, her very first triumph when she had started school almost four years ago. Her posts had been so full of life, so optimistic, it caused her a great deal of worthlessness in her now. She took her eyes off of her computer, as she glanced around her desk. Papers covered every exposed corner, pens and pencils scattered about. In the midst of the all the chaos, her eyes rested on one item in particular—that very first ceramic bowl.

Originally, she had thought placing the bowl on her desk would be a constant reminder of who she was, when she became a famous artist. Now, it was just a bleak trophy of a lost dream. She sighed, again, as she continued to look around her small office. She lifted her sunglasses slowly over her forehead. Around her, she looked at the drafting table she had bought, for those spur of the moment inspirations, and a potted plant that wilted in the window. She shoulders started to sag as she began to feel truly trapped, unhappy, and lost in the concrete jungle. Like the plant that had once been so tall, green, and so very beautiful with its simplicity, she too had begun to wilt.

Standing, Aisleigh shuffled her feet as she walked over to the plant, softly touching the leaves. They crunched and fell to the ground with the slightest hint of contact. She reached towards the blinds, peering through them to get a look at the outside world. Rain cascaded against the window, echoing in her ears. "And, it's raining. Wonderful." She played with the string, debating whether or not to open the blinds, letting in the grey of her surrounding outside world. Slowly, they rose. Once opened, Aisleigh walked back to her desk, sitting heavily in her chair.

She looked at the small clock on her computer, upset at the time. Not even ten in the morning, and she was done for the week. Needing some energy, she stood from her chair, walking towards her door. Opening it, she peered out into the office building watching co-workers working diligently on their own things. She looked at their clothing, noticing just how bland it all was. Different variations of greys, blues, greens, blacks. It was all diluted. Nothing was vibrant, nothing was alive.

Making her way to the small office kitchen, she pulled out a slight mug; another one of her creations. When she had first glazed it, it was spectacular. It was bright, vibrant, and magnificent. Since then, it had worn some of its color away, as small layers of dust covered the rim and handle. She gently wiped off the dust as she poured herself a cold cup of coffee. No sugar, no cream. She had learned that black coffee would be the best in order to survive the day to day drag of her drab existence. Shuffling back to her office, she sipped from her mug.

An overwhelming anxiety began to wash over her, as she looked at her desk. She had to get something accomplished today. Sighing, she took one last gulp from her coffee before organizing her desk. Stacking piles, adjusting files, tucking away small pieces of paper. She was starting to feel a little optimistic as the clutter began to disappear. All the paperwork was almost gone away, as she once again glanced at her computer screen. By now, a screensaver moved about. Pictures of her father and grandfather passed by. Images of her when she was much younger and more carefree flooded the screen.

Aisleigh had stopped in her tracks, and watched as the pictures changed. She began to smile and laugh as memories came back to her. Growing up, she couldn't count how many times she had visited her grandfather during the years, always helping on his farm. She reminisced about the animals and the babies coming into the world. The magic that surrounded his farm and the small town where he lived. As the years passed by, grandfather got older, as did she. The last picture that she saw was one of him, laying on his old bed. He had been sick for a little while now, and no one knew how long he had left.

Despite the coming end of his life, Aisleigh could see the joy that gleamed in his eyes. He had created a life in this town. He practically raised her on this farm. The momentary joy that she felt looking at the photos was once again replaced by a crushing sense of loss. Loss of herself, loss of her grandfather. Loss of the life they had shared. She needed a break. Wiping the corners of her eyes, making sure not to smudge her make-up, she grabbed a half empty pack of cigarettes from her purse. She pulled a heavy coat from a hanger, leaving her plain office for the cold grey of outside.

She walked to the roof top, lighting up her cigarette slowly. The bright end of the cherry warmed her and she inhaled deeply. Holding her breath for a moment, she sluggishly exhaled, watching as a deliberate cloud of smoke wafted away in the cold breeze. Around her, she heard pigeons coo and flutter about. They must feel so free, she thought as she watched a small flock fly away effortlessly. It was so easy for them, she wondered. To just get up and leave as easily as they thought fit.

"Grandpa," she spoke to the open air, "I hate it here. I just want my life back." Memories once again washed over her mind, as she recounted the last moments she had spent with her grandfather. She felt as if she had left this time she was existing in and was once again with him in his small house. She walked through her memory, seeing the minuscule details that she could have sworn were never there. It was night, only the light from the fireplace lit up the room. But, everything was so vivid. She could hear his low, raspy, weak voice as he spoke to her. She could feel the softness of his skin against hers as he held her hand.

He strained to reach her, as he leaned in close. He pulled up his other arm slowly, handing her an envelope. "When the day comes, open it," he had said to her. It was the last thing he had ever said. No goodbye. No I love you. Nothing but a command. She was now half way done smoking. As if a bolt of lightning hit her, she dropped her cigarette on the ground and began running back towards her office. Doors flung open, people passed by. It all happened so slow. Aisleigh begged her feet to move faster. As she reached her office doorway, she halted. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she cautiously stepped inside. Closing her door hesitantly behind her, she inched towards her desk. Sitting down, she glanced at the bottom drawer as her hand hovered above the handle.

Cautiously, she eased the drawer open. Nothing was inside, nothing but an envelope from her grandfather. She pulled it out and gently placed it on her now clutter free desk and stared at it. She sat in her chair, not knowing what could be inside. Was it words of wisdom? Was it more memories? Aisleigh glanced at her computer. There was a single photo on the screen. She was about seven or so. Her father was behind her, holding her high into the sky. To her side, her grandfather stood smiling brightly at her. The sun was so bright, she remembered that it almost seemed like it would blind her if she stayed up in the sky for too long.

With a new confidence and smile, she picked up the envelope, opening it slowly. Inside, were a few papers. They looked like important documents, legal papers for something. She paid them no attention. What did catch her attention, was a small piece of folded paper with a hand written note. Opening the folds one by one, she began to read the letter. It was from her grandfather, detailing accounts of his life that had seemed wasted and lackluster. He explained to her, that he had once been in her shoes, no longer enjoying life. Tears streamed down her face as he knew how she felt. She had never known why he had lived on his farm, but now it was all clear.

In the last paragraph, she read that he had left his old land to her, and to her alone. Her father enjoyed his work, not needing an escape. But, she and her grandfather, were one in the same. They had free spirits. It would never be enough to work in an office building. They needed fresh air. They needed the sun beaming down on them. When she was ready, she was more than welcome to take over the farm and call it her own. If she wanted, she could stay as long as she needed, maybe even start her own family just as he had. She softly placed the note on her desk, replacing it with the legal documents she had so casually put down before. Reading them over, she began understand what exactly they were. They were the deed to his land.

Aisleigh was completely dumbfounded. Had this been here all this time? She leaned back hard in her large chair, staring blankly around her office. She could leave all of this behind. She could start over. She could bring her memories back to life. She could live again. Suddenly, her phone vibrated. Looking down, she saw the screen light up. It was her father, sending his daily text.

I hope you're pushing through! Keep up your work, and you'll get far! Love, Dad.

Picking up her phone, she looked at the text once again. Her mind was racing. What was she to do? Was leaving everything she had for a whim really the responsible thing to do? What if she failed as a farmer? What if she never—her thoughts stopped as she shook her head. She stood, once again walking to the roof, her phone still in hand. Stepping out, she noticed the rain had begun to let up to a light drizzle. Lighting up another cigarette, she dialed her father's number. On the third ring, he picked up.

"Hello?" He answered quickly.

"Dad? It's me."

"Hey, sweetheart." He paused, "Is everything okay? You don't normally call."

She took a drag before answering. "Yeah. I have a question."

"Sure. I might have an answer," he joked.

"You remember grandpa's farm, right?"

"Of course I do. Whenever we would leave, you always put up the biggest fuss."

Aisleigh let out a small, forced giggle. "Yeah I hated leaving."

"That you did." Aisleigh heard voices in the background.

"Am I interrupting you?"

"No, not at all. I have all the time in the world for you."

"Well," her voice cracked. "I'm having a bad morning. I hate my work. I'm not doing artwork anymore. I do paperwork all day. Nothing makes sense anymore." She started to sob. Sinking to the ground, she stopped talking, waiting for her father to say something. On the other side of the phone, she heard the voices stop. A door closed, silencing the outside world.

"Aisleigh? What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I opened the envelope grandpa gave me. Do you remember?"

"I remember."

"Inside, he had left me a letter. He also left me the deed to the farm."

"Okay. Why are you crying though, honey?" His voice was genuinely concerned for his daughter. He had known that she had been unhappy she had started working in the city. He had hoped that she would be able to work through the tough times, like he had, and would eventually become successful. But, it had been a year. A very rough, unproductive year. When he would see her on their brief get-togethers, she seemed to be losing the light that had always beamed from inside her.

"I want to leave. Leave this city. Leave the greys. I want to go back to the farm." Her voice was desperate as she spoke. She knew how her father had always talked about how much he loved his work in his office. She wanted nothing more to follow in his footsteps and make him proud of her. But, in the process of doing so, she was losing herself. She sat silently, waiting to hear her father's voice telling her it would be alright, that her office days would soon be over. That the work she was doing now, would pay off soon and she would be right back to creating her artwork again.

"Then leave." He said calmly.

"What?" She was surprised at what he had said.

"Aisleigh, leave. If living in the city is causing you this much suffering, go back. I would rather you do what you want to do, something that makes you smile, than watch you agonize about every little thing you're doing."

"But what about making you proud of me?"

"Sweetheart. Nothing would make me more proud of you than watching you do something that makes you happy and watching you reach the stars." Aisleigh was sobbing uncontrollably. All this time, she could have left and done such wonderful things. Why had she waited so long?

"Thank you, daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, princess. Go out there and live your life."

Wiping her face, Aisleigh smiled. "I will."

She hung up her phone, put out the end of her cigarette, and took one last long look at the cityscape from the rooftop. In what felt like the longest year in the history of time, she finally felt confident again. With her back straight and her footsteps strong, she walked into her boss's office. No knock, no waiting for an invitation.

"Sir," she said, her voice booming with such self-assurance, it startled even her.

"Aisleigh, I'm in—"

"I quit." Without waiting for a response, she left as quickly as she had entered. Marching back to her office, she glanced at a clock on the wall. It was almost eleven. If she packed quickly, she could be out of the city before five. She found a box big enough to put all her belongings in before walking out of the tall corporate tower. Item by item, she filled the box. Her little bowl. The matching mug. The almost dead plant. She looked into her office, ignoring the ringing phone, debating to take the drafting table. Aisleigh decided against it, thinking that she would have an abundant source of inspiration and enough time to use it whenever she pleased out at the farm.

She had made it to her small apartment within the hour and looked around. It was bland, with nothing that really made her feel at home. Stepping inside, she heard the soft meow from her kitten as it ran up to her, rubbing against her legs. She knelt down, picking up the ball of fur in her hands, stocking it with her face.

"I hope you're ready for a change of pace, Spike. We're leaving this dump." In response, the little black and white kitten meowed happily. Aisleigh had planned for a few hours of packing and cleaning, but was quickly disappointed when the total time to clean, pack boxes, pack her car and rid her apartment of furniture took only two hours. With a heavy sigh, she held Spike in her arms as she gave her apartment one more look over before closing the door. Walking down the stairs, the two got into her car, making sure to get settled before leaving.

"Am I forgetting anything?" The cat meowed. "Didn't think so. Well, goodbye Zuzu City. Look out, Pelican Town. You're about to have two new residents!" Spike meowed again in agreement.

Driving down the highway, leaving the city, Aisleigh began to feel lighter. She had no idea what to expect, but in the moment, she felt that she would be able to take on all the world had to offer her. She smiled, tapping her fingers at the wheel, as she looked out the window, the coast line passing her by. Her windows were rolled down, and as she breathed in deeply, she could taste the saltiness of the air. It sent chills down her body. She felt as if she was returning home after a long, long, long vacation.

Two hours passed, and she was still smiling. On the side of the road, she saw a sign reading "Stardew Valley; .5 miles." She could feel her smile widening as her teeth began to show. She started becoming antsy. Looking towards the sky, there were a few clouds. It might have been her imagination, but she could swear the one looked exactly like her grandfather. He was smiling towards her, almost laughing. "Welcome home, princess," she could hear him say.