plague of locusts, pt. 3

We walked along the desolate fields under the light of the moon. The town had never looked so dead as it did then, nor had the field been so quiet during the wind. She didn't say anything for the entire walk, except to occasionally point out landmarks--which farmer used to own which field.

Eventually we made our way to a church and sat on its steps. After several minutes of silence, she said, "I don't think I can take this. I always hated this place. Now it's dead and it's even worse."

"So you want to leave?"

"I guess. Can we go in the morning? I want to say goodbye to my folks."

We walked back to her house and went to sleep. In the morning her parents woke us to let us know breakfast was ready. She talked to them for a while--not about the locusts at all, but just about little things going on in her life, their plans for the summer, and so on. It wasn't my conversation, so I spent most of breakfast reading.

Eventually I heard, "We've got to get back home today. I wish I could stay longer, but--"

"Oh, we understand. Come back soon, okay? You'll be missed."

I helped her pack her things and we drove home in silence.