how long have you been here?
-where?
on the road.
-that depends.
on what?
-what year is it?
a late year.
-then a long time.
a long time.
-yes.
and your child, how old is he?
-i think he is six, I'm not sure. my watch doesn't work.
take mine.
-i couldn't.
take it. there's a spare battery in the bag, somewhere in there.
-you don't need it?
not where I'm going.
-and where are you going?
home.

-is that why you have the gun?
it is.
-you're gonna do it.
yes.
-may I...
may you what?
-may I have it...when you're done?
it won't be any use to me.
-so yes?
yes.

-a bird.
where?
-on that branch.
where? i can't see.
-look closely, it's resting on the end. its covered in ash.
oh my lord.
-i know.
i haven't seen one in years.
-me neither.
it's beautiful.
-it is.
it's beautiful.

-what do you taste?
i taste peaches.
-peaches?
peaches. red wine. a hint of autumn.
-divine.
and you?
-what do i taste?
what do you taste?
-i taste charlette's cooking. the cold lemonade she brought out to me and samuel the years before the storms began.

your son is far out.
-he knows how far he can go.
and the string around his waist?
-you can never be too careful.
not with the ones you love.

do you miss her?
-who?
your wife?
-of course.
you never cry.
-i care for samuel. i can not let him see me cry.
you're lucky.
-why?
you still have someone to hide your tears from.

the storm is coming.
-yes.
just like yesterday.
-yes.
it will kill us one day.
-one day.
it will kill us all.
-maybe, but today is not that day, and I pray it will not come soon.
but I do.
-then you are lost.

-are you leaving?
yes.
-where to?
i've already told you.
-is there nothing I can say-
no.
-nothing at all?
no.
-then go.

*gunshot*

papa?
-yes, samuel?
where is uncle vern?
-he's gone.
gone?
-yes.
where did he go?
-somewhere we he could be free. somewhere where the ash doesn't blow in the wind to choke our lungs. somewhere where the sun shines brightly in our western sky.
where is that, papa?
-home.

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