Sarah stumbled as she stepped out. Peter saw the lights. They blazed into his eyes. He closed them but still could not see her approach.
As she rose to her feet, she grapped two pebbles. Her dress was in tatters. Her soles burned while her nipples were cold and wet. She could still hear the baby crying.
Sarah ran her hand over Peter's face. His hands squeezed her buttocks.
"He is gone", she said. Salt dripped from his chin. Sarah slipped the pebbles into his pocket.
After the noise of departure, the silence was broken only by an owl's hoot and a man's sob.
First published at Tuch & Automaton.
Edinburgh Marched Against Trump Yesterday
8 hours ago