She begins to follow him on his trips across their child, keeping distant and out of sight, but watching him raise armies that swarm across the land, watching him build factories that belch black smoke into the sky, watching him create a kind of link amongst all the creatures living there so that, by their own choice, they allow themselves to be more easily controlled.
He, meanwhile, hides in hot springs and geysers, travels via ash falls and earthquakes, dances across tectonic plate stresses and the slidings of continents to follow her, watching her deal with the people of their child, watch them try to take from her, watch her forgive them with her touch, releasing them from their burdens in an exchange more intimate than any of their own closenesses could ever be.
Their child senses their disquiet, as any child would. It frets and turns and soils itself under their increasingly neglectful eye. Occasionally, it shames them into submitting to its needs, and they repay it in caresses, in seasons of peace and fair weather, in nights of endless moonlight and days of crisp sun.
But it is never long before their eyes return to one another, and when that happens the world knows to cower and take itself early to bed.
YOU ARE READING
The Crane Wife and the Volcano
General Fictionthis is not my story, it belongs to the great book "The Crane Wife", by the amazing writer Patrick Ness. this story explains the life of one of the main characters, called Kumiko (aka the crane wife), told by herself in 32 parts. even though there...
