(I have had the idea for this story for over a decade. Thanks to William Hunter Duncan and his Asima series, I now know how. I don't know if I will ever do more with it, so if anyone wants to take this idea and expand on it, all I ask is that you let people know where you got the idea.)
A large field fills the river valley. Small cart paths criss cross the field. Row upon row of produce are being tended by people scattered throughout the field. A late middle-aged man and a boy just coming into manhood work fairly close together.
"Son..." the man calls.
"Yes, Dad?"
"Come closer so we can talk."
The boy walks over to the next row from his dad and faces him.
"Have I ever told you about the time I met Adolf Hitler?"
"No, Dad... Why does that name sound familiar? Oh, wait, was he a painter?"
The man laughed. "Yes, son, he was a painter."
Say what?
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