He was feeling a disappointment and betrayal that the shard had to come out of the ground. He had mythologized it as a child, a piece of lightning solidified there, a great sword, had over the years battled to move it himself. He thought it the gut of some truck or implement long abandoned and it was a mark for him. Like the mole she was self-conscious of above her hip. It felt wrong to remove it. It was right in the line of the ditch and it had to come out but he was disagreeing emotionally with what they were doing...He was unsettled at the shard coming out of the ground, as if it would bring a wrongness....He could not disassociate the [Big] man coming from the moving of the shard. As if it had conjured him.He thought of the shard, lying there, a snapped bone. Something stricken. He wondered briefly again what it was. It worried him that there was no imagination in him. There was just a hollow, dead unknowing. Somewhere within him, the anger about the man coming onto his land....He had a sudden fear for her, a belief someone had touched her or was going to touch her and harm her again. It was inexplicable.
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