A Steady Situation 3, Part 4

Are you sure you feel alright travelling light?

He had the expression an old oak might wear if it sanded itself a face. She felt like an ancient longhouse, tipping its roof over to make it a boat once more, to sail into fog-bound waters.

Everything I need should be there.

Since she had made the decision to leave, each word between them hit like a hammer stroke.

They walked through the house together, then he waited for her to open the door into the blinding sun.

They walked over to the outcrop, where he deposited her bags. Birds cawed; grass rustled. Neither looked at the other.

Eventually, he spotted the carts in the distance. She stood motionless, surveying the landscape.

Every time she looked over to it, it was as if she was staring at a painting whose features steadily atrophied into something entirely new.