Chapter 81

The sky darkened into purple as Hunter twisted the faucet handle at the side of the house off. He stared with exhaustion at the green hose, winding its way through the grass like a snake, and decided that tonight he didn’t feel like coiling it up and replacing it in its metal holder. Darkness was coming too soon.

In the kitchen Hunter tossed his gloves off and washed his hands, splashed his face, dried off, and then wondered what he would do with his evening, which stretched before him, empty. He went upstairs, started the shower, and while he waited for the water to heat, listened to the familiar sounds he heard each night: cicadas, frogs, and crickets. They were soothing. He undressed and stepped under the spray, washing the sweat and grime of the day down the drain.