The Gate at the Top Paddock

Every farm has a gate someone always leaves open. On ours, it was the top paddock — and every time, the same bloke swore it wasn't him. One evening the old man didn't argue. He just walked the fence line with him, the whole way, in the rain, until they found where the stock had pushed through. Never said a word about whose fault it was.

The gate never got left open again. Not because anyone got blasted — because someone finally owned the walk.