black horse reaping;
He, too, was devoted.
In spirit and soul to a ghost.
A phantom of his past, the one object of his affections. But it is over now. He knows this, in the depths of his burning heart. Knows she will never come back and he, he alone, will be left to wither under the sun of her absence.
The children do not remember. The sand and sea and even the mountain. None remember like he does, the subtle richness of her voice. How her breath felt against skin. If he could only conjure her up like a spirit.
But, in a sense, wasn’t she?
Hadn’t she haunted him? Gael stands in the shadowy little hole he has found, he feels the last few stretches of sunlight on his hips.
Then he hears that voice, one he has not heard in a lifetime. One that has changed from the shyness of youth to the depths of adulthood. Gael turns his face towards his son. He can see the silver edge, which reminds Gael of her and he can’t stop the smile on his mouth at the comparison.
“
It is good to see you.” he mumbles, unsure how to act towards his son. “
You have grown strong and you have grown to look like your mother.”
Gael nods, satisfied.
gael