She’s not crying anymore.

Clay reads the executive summary. Sustainable yield. Economic benefit. Environmental impact statement approved.

Clay heard nothing but the hiss of pressurised water and the distant groan of a windmill.

He stays there until the stars come out, hard and bright as broken glass. And when he finally stands, he knows what his father meant by listening .

From the bore, a sigh. So soft he might have imagined it. But the pulse changes. Becomes less a question, more a welcome.

Then he drops the pages into the soak. The ink bleeds. The paper curls and sinks.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *