I refer to Vincent Van Goghs nameless, faceless image simply as, Van Goghs Peasant. Like a ghostly specter he centers Van Goghs canvas, locked forever in the endless task of harvesting the fruit of the land. He appears to be a farmer, maybe Amish, with his large, rough hands and a back permanently stooped from years of hard labor. This story releases the image from its canvas prison. It gives life to the man, however temporary, and allows him to end his labor. True to the sketch, the story maintains his nameless and faceless persona, allowing that void to be filled by the unique experiences of each reader. The story is inspired by the Van Gogh sketch, Peasant with Sickle, Seen from the Back. It is written as an allegory.
