[The layer of cloud breaks. Sun peaks through. It makes the cold worse, in his eyes. The promise of a clear day in the depths of winter. Worse still is the notion that tomorrow this snow will all melt away. A tomorrow that feels like ten minutes from now, and three days that feels like yesterday. The haze like fog that clutters his head, that can't be escaped.
Still he works. Time passes. He's not sure how much. The sweep of wind across the path. The shifting of cloud. The shivers down his spine. The blade of the shovel. And always, there's the work.
Until he breaks. A survey of the path uncovered. Rests the shovel against a nearby tree, still covered with leaves despite the chill and the frost and the snow. He smiles, accomplished.]
no subject
[The layer of cloud breaks. Sun peaks through. It makes the cold worse, in his eyes. The promise of a clear day in the depths of winter. Worse still is the notion that tomorrow this snow will all melt away. A tomorrow that feels like ten minutes from now, and three days that feels like yesterday. The haze like fog that clutters his head, that can't be escaped.
Still he works. Time passes. He's not sure how much. The sweep of wind across the path. The shifting of cloud. The shivers down his spine. The blade of the shovel. And always, there's the work.
Until he breaks. A survey of the path uncovered. Rests the shovel against a nearby tree, still covered with leaves despite the chill and the frost and the snow. He smiles, accomplished.]
Coming in?
[And he walks inside his father's church.]