Seed Page 18
by Harlan Ruud
Paddling to the river's bank, I step from the water and, still naked, return to the house. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I move into the kitchen. I sit at the table, listening, looking. Everything is quiet. I could die here, I think, looking into the shadows. So quiet, as quiet as – here now in my father's house. So still, so quiet. Closing my eyes, I smile.