the voices drift on the night, down the road, and lap against the peeling facade of a storefront. a mortuary.
simon has left the mortuary and now limps with difficulty through the silent streets, leaning against shop walls for support.
thomas, in a hail of shattered glass, smacks the red earth, pulls himself up to his knees and tries to stumble and crawl away as gabriel bangs open the trailer door and stomps down the stairs toward katherine, her arms around mary.
katherine wanders along the edge of the village, turning up her collar under a blinding mass of stars. there's nothing beyond the village. not a light, not a sound. say the wind. it is the icy brush of wind on her body that now whispers.
katherine runs into thomas outside the hogan.
katherine leans against the doorway, nervously watching the horizon.