Page 158 of Mountain Daddy

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Luther.

The man…

I pull in a gasping breath.

I didn’t see that coming.

I should’ve seen it coming.

I don’t look back.

Don’t need to see him go.

Luther is leaving.

For good this time.

I walk through the house. Straight through to the back door.

Through the backyard.

Through the grass.

To the edge of the woods.

And then I step through the trees.

I keep going until I can’t see the house behind me.

Until there’s no one around.

Then I let my legs give way, and I sit in the dirt.

The tears are still falling.

My breathing is still choppy.

But I’m quiet.

Only my inhales give me away.

He didn’t choose me.

I close my eyes, and images of Luther fade in and out of the darkness.

Memories.

Feelings.

Wishes.

My spine loosens, one vertebra at a time, and I lie down on my back.

Pine needles catch in my hair.

A branch digs into my side.

But I don’t move.

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