by awkward smiles, the kind that signify retreat. Her dark hair and deep set eyes bore no resemblance to her tall, fair sister. The four year gap between them did not make Jette feel wiser, instead she felt like warm milk trapped beneath its own skin. Sophie removes the lid from the urn and held it away from her body. The wind is moving on shore and she positions herself so none of the ashes will blow her way. She turns to Jette who has tucked her chin upon her chest. Sophie looks back to the urn and tilts it carefully, as if she were measuring it into a mixture. Before she re leases it into the water, Sophie pushes the lid back on the urn and exhales. She walks quickly through the heavy water, back to Jette who says nothing as she dries herself. ‘Not yet,’ she explains. ‘When? We can’t keep coming down here!’ ‘I thought I was ready.’ ‘Ready? Soph it’s got nothing to do with you. It’s a pile of ash. All you have to do is tip it in.’ ‘No.’ ‘Well I don’t see why not. She doesn’t care, she can’t see us.’ Jette spits. ‘She’s not living in that thing.’ Sophie storms off through the low scrub. By the time Jette makes her way back to the car Sophie is sitting on the bonnet, trying to soak up the faint warmth of the cooling engine. ‘I need to stay here for a while,’ she pleads. Jette is looking off into the distance. She moves towards the bonnet and exam ines Sophie, as if she were a strange bug with its legs flailing in the air. Sophie sees Jette as a huge gourd, an unavoidable presence of thickness and curiosity. She is about to say something when suddenly Jette is in the driver’s seat, starting the en gine. ‘No, wait!’ Sophie jumps from the bonnet as Jette begins to back out. ‘We can’t go,’ she chases after the car, which is moving away from her. ‘Wait!’ She screams, opening the door and launching herself into the passenger seat. Jette says nothing, but spins the car out from the sandy car park. Sophie is sob bing. Jette launches the car over the main road and brakes suddenly, landing them outside the office of the caravan park. Sophie looks up. ‘Go and get a key.’
Winged Seeds, Summer 2011
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