17 of 32

4 0 0
                                    

Neither ceases to be what they were before. She suspects he is behind the wars that blight the face of their child, and when he returns from absences his horses sweat fire and blood, as if they had run to the end of time and back.
He suspects, in turn, that her absences are spent bestowing her forgiveness on others, and when she returns from periods away there is a contentment to her, a glassy eyed satisfaction she is slow to stir from.
He has thought himself too big, too all-powerful for jealousy. She has thought herself too free, too quietly sure of her place in the world for jealousy to even occur to her.
They are both wrong.

The Crane Wife and the VolcanoWhere stories live. Discover now