Breaking the Prophecy

air full of the scent of pine and da

ion, a tough job in a remote patch of forest, he w

vements small, precise, when s

o him, a rare int

she

er lips brushing hi

arely audible even t

fr

y ruddy and chee

an who never shirked his duty, but h

ice tight, offering no explanatio

the unthinka

e in his life, was found at the bot

the steep embankment in

, asked his questi

looked at the mud

ed, his voice flat, "Stress-

zed like a d

m, suddenly it wasn't jus

a curse, that Mom' s

her into her silence, a deep

s walls, her communication with me reduced to the most b

sk what she' d said to Dad,

beg, my voice cracki

with a pain that mirrored my own, but he

tue, unresponsive, her silence a wall between u

corners of our home, leaving me alone with my grief, the memory of D

I couldn' t swallow, Dad had no history of sleepwalking, none.