When, after the guns, the gas, the bodies and the blood, they ask the earth, the
earth says it doesn’t understand. The earth has trouble speaking, coughs and
chokes. When they return later, the earth refuses to answer anything. They look
for birds but the birds are gone. They wait for squirrels, they watch for foxes. In
frustration, they take to shouting at the clouds, but the clouds are too high for
opinions. At night, each thinks they hear the other crying. No-one mentions it.
After they leave, the earth churns itself round and round, trying to get clean.
First published in the Manchester Review, July 2020.
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