Darkhenge

R. RUIS: ELDER

They’ve shunted me out into the corridor while the specialist is with her. “Come on now, Father. Get yourself a cup of coffee.”

The sister’s a good woman. She keeps looking at the cigarettes, but she says nothing.

I should have been here more often.

That night last month, when I came late and read Chloe one of those old fairy-tale stories. It was so quiet, with just the monitors humming, the words all around her, the branches tapping on the window. An old book I gave her when she was five. She probably hasn’t looked at it for years. The briared castle, the sleeping beauty, the beast. Are those stories where she is? Vetch would no doubt say so.

I’m beginning to think our dark druid has gone home.

And taken Rob with him.