From where Leo sat beneath the sycamore, he could see the cars passing down below through the woods that separated Tobias and his house from the road. He watched them sometimes, absentmindedly, glimpsing them in pieces only. The branches dissected their wholeness, turned them into moving jigsaw. Today though, one slowed down and drew his mind closer in. It was white. It was large. And just as it went around the bend toward the mouth of Tobias's driveway, all the sound it cut into the air ceased... read more
