The girls came out and chattered behind him for a while, but he paid them no mind. But the afternoons passed, and the Captain merely watched, sometimes sitting there for hours, even if it turned wet or squally. Nothing had anything to do with him, unless it was the mare. Come on, July, she said.
The last time I crossed it I didn't even notice it. They died, she said. Lippy had found an old piece of sacking and was wiping the mud off his head. July wondered that he could sleep so soundly with his mother missing.
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