Maxwell could remember his grandfather well. He couldn't tell you that he memorized every wrinkle on the elder man's face or that he remembered the most of what his grandfather did; he didn't remember those kinds of things. He could, though, remember all those winters his grandfather came to spend with them. He could remember the stories his grandpa used to tell him, of a place so beautiful, filled with a cheerful and an always ever-so-happy community. Maxwell could remember so much of those stories that could seem so close, though they had to have been just stories, right? No place like that could exist.

He remembered the way he would laugh at the fact that his grandpa always smelled of grass. He always had rosy cheeks and a smile so bright that it challenged the shine of the sun. He would bring Max toys and books and things he had never seen before. His grandfather always sent a box of fresh produce to their home, once a month, with a yellow envelope taped inside. His mother wasn't the richest, nowhere close, and ever since Max's father left, they struggled. But his mother, bless her heart, always cried when she saw the yellow envelope, which Max recent had learned was her father, his wonderful, cheery, charitable grandfather, just making sure they had enough to stay afloat, always assuring her over phone calls and letters that he had enough money to go around. That was really when he looked up to his grandpa.

As years passed by, Maxwell went by Max, then by Maxie, which he decided to stick with. As he grew older, he noticed less and less of his grandfather's visits, until he had eavesdropped on his mother, hearing that his grandfather was sick, deathly sick, and Maxwell decided he wanted to see him one last time, he wanted to take the train to see his grandfather at the hospital. Maxie's grandfather, that lovable and charitable man, he laid out in front of his grandson, holding a letter shakily with one hand.

"Son, come here, I haven't forgotten about you," Max stepped closer to his grandfather, leaning down to hear what his grandfather had to say in his low, raspy voice. "This is my most prized posession, I'm trusting it with you," he reached for it, only for the dying man to pull it closer to himself. "Be patient, Maxwell. I want you to promise me that you will not open this until you feel as though the city has caused an emptiness in your soul. When the city life is too much, turn to this letter, and trust the envelope to lead you to a place you will call home-" the dying man brome off coughing. "I love you, my boy, now leave. And do not open the envelope until then..."

Maxwell had only nodded, holding back a sob as he hugged his grandfather once more, for the last time as he finally set his course for his home he shared with hus mother. Maybe his grandfather didnt know those words were strong and potent, like a snake's venom to the seventeen year old. But he would listen and he would wait until the time came for him to open the letter.

...Five years later...

Maxie sat in his cubicle, cramped into a space with hundreds of others, tapping away at their keyboards. JoJa co. was the biggest company around, producing cheap produce and home essentials. It was a good paying job and it was pretty easy, typing out memos and reports for each item they sold. He worked in an HQ building rather than a Warehouse or a JoJa Mart. He definitely didn't think he was friendly enough to work as one of those places.

JoJa Marts were definitely taking the world by storm, they were cheap and filled with employees ever so cheerful, always aiming to please the cusomer. This was all he had ever known.

To say he was happy with his job would be a stretch. His mother commented on how his eyes looked empty and broken, offhandedly saying he should take a vacation. He really never understood how something could be so soul sucking. No one at work ever wanted to make small talk, they just always wanted to make money and then head home. It was quite the far cry from what he had heard about how jobs are basically a second home for people. It was so much different seeing everyone give him the cold shoulder when he tried to strike up a conversation.

Heading home, the best part of the day...Usually. He used the bus, liking the idea of seeing blurs of cars pass by, the honking of car horns like the annoying symphony that never stops. They were things he was used to seeing, used to hearing. The smell of the city was not something he liked overly either. It smelled of the hopes of country kids who thought the city would be different, who thought the city was full of lights that would spell out their names and would be welcoming.

Max couldn't say that the city was all that bad, you get used to the smells and sight. You get used to the bright nights filled with too much noise.

He finally reached his home, sighing as he placed his keys on the kitchen counter. "Hi Maxie!" His mother shouted from somewhere in the back of the apartment. He smiled, his mother was so kind, so nice. She was the kind of person who would cry with you and help you up no matter how far you've fallen. He couldn't imagine his life without his mother there.

"Hey mom," Maxie croaked out moving to the restroom to splash water on his heated face. The damned summer made him feel sticky and way too hot. "Damn this stupid long sleeve JoJa makes us wear.." he grumbled, unbuttoning the stuffy long sleeve as threw on some t-shirt he had left on the bathroom floor when he changed for work that morning.

He looked in the mirror as he ruffled and mussed his hair. His eyes, no, they seemed too dull, too grey to be his eyes, stared back at him from the mirror. Why did they look at him with such anger towards their owner? Was his life really that bad? He had a decent paying job, not really much time for much else other than- "MAXIE, THAT FOOTBALL SHOW WITH THE PUPPIES IS ON! COME WATCH IT WITH ME." He ignored his mother, heading to his bed instead.

He headed to bed hours ago, but sleep danced around right outside his grasp. He still could hear the yips from the puppies on the tv through the wall with the shout of 'goal!' every now and then. His mother probably fell asleep watching the show. He sighed as he stared at the envelope sitting on his nightstand, the wax seal beckoning him for finally open it. He sat up and turned the light on, staring down the envelope for a few minutes before finally opening it. "Oh what the hell, lets see what's inside," he grumbled opening the envelope. There were a few papers in there, the first two, had large-ish writing as it was a heartfelt of how this was his greatest possession, and how if he was opening it, it was because he finally needed a change of pace from the city life. The last paper was the deed to a farm house with a large plot of land where he could farm.

He smiled slightly. "Pelican Town in Stardew Valley. Sounds like a nice place." He laid back on his bed closing his eyes as he drifted off with one last thought filling his head.

' Stardew Valley'