She’ll see a rare family of goats stuck to the
mountainside like magnets. She’ll laugh out loud at how odd they seem, all
shaggy white and long beards. Just a family hanging out in the shade. She’ll make
a note to tell her son about them when she gets home.
She’ll stop at a petrol station to stretch her legs,
the south wind as hot as suffocation. She’ll see a teenager smoking beside his
father who is smoking, and she’ll reach for her phone.
‘Yeah, it’s hot here too Mum. The dog barks at night.
He misses you.’
‘Do YOU miss me?’ She’ll hear a chair scraping in her
living room.
She’ll tell him she’ll give him fifty kisses when she
gets home. ‘Fifty euros, you mean.’ He’ll laugh.
The father will cuff the back of his son’s head in
jest. He’ll point towards their van. He’ll stub out his cigarette and pull up
ill-fitting jeans. The boy will do the same.
‘Mum, I have to go now? Dad and Linda are taking me
out for pizza.’
She’ll drive further along the coast, see a goat all
on her own, chewing dry grass, trying to swallow. Trying not to cry.
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