Smoke on the Horizon

7921 words

Jo’s hands gripped the edge of the kitchen sink, knuckles tight against the chipped porcelain, the cold of it biting into her palms. The window above the basin framed the cotton field beyond, a gray sprawl under a sky bruised with early morning rain clouds. She’d been staring out there since before the rooster crowed, watching for that black smoke again, the kind that vanished like a held breath. Her chest ached with the waiting, a prayer half-formed in her mind—Lord, don’t let me see it again. But if I do, give me the strength to face it. “Jo, you hear me?” Robert’s voice cut through, sharp as a switch, from where he sat at the kitchen table. His coffee mug thudded down, a hard punctuation. He’d been talking about the truck, something about a busted alternator and needing parts from town, but she hadn’t caught the half of it. Her ears were tuned to the field, to the whisper of wind through the brittle stalks, waiting for that sound Lily kept humming, the one that wasn’t any song Jo knew. “I’m listening,” she lied, not turning around. The faucet dripped, a slow tick against the quiet, and she could feel the weight of his stare on her back. The air in the house was thick, smelling of damp wood...