“It’s lovely moss, Joseph. See how deep.” She pulled out a handful and held up the damp black roots for him to see. “I’ll never dream of you any more,” she said to the rock.
Elizabeth leaned down and looked into the dark cave from which the stream flowed. “Nothing in there,” she said. “Just a deep hole in the rock, and the smell of wet ground.” She stood up again and patted the shaggy sides of the rock. “It’s lovely moss, Joseph. See how deep.” She pulled out a handful and held up the damp black roots for him to see. “I’ll never dream of you any more,” she said to the rock. The sky was dark grey by now, and the sun had gone.
