The prompt is in bold.
Ma and Pa were gone and it was time to sell the old homestead. As Mary looked out from her high rise city apartment at the concrete, memories came flooding back.
It’s true, the smell of freshly mowed grass can stay with you for years, for decades, so could Ma's apple pies baking in the kitchen. She could almost see the laundry fluttering in the country breeze and the old oak tree.
For a moment, she had visions of moving back there. Then reality set in. He was still there in town and she could never forget or forgive what he did and she trembled. No, she couldn't go back.