It didn't take long for the ambience to revert back to the status-quo after Dad made his silent uneventful exit, disappearing deep into the rustle of thick bushes and the crackle of stray twigs.
Never noticed just how heavy the air had become until he had upped and left. Not that he was some kind of misery virus—infecting those around him with symptoms of chronic frowny faces and bad vibes. I think the true root of it had more to do with Irene than him, actually.
Something about him just rears out something foul from her, that's where that heaviness comes from. They meet again, was it always gonna play out the same way? Nothing but something so visceral and great festering the empty spaces in the distance they kept from one another?
"We'll leave it here for today," Irene swerved. I felt my knuckles graze the sway of her blazer as she did. Her flowing hair was like a smokescreen, whipping into view, and the moment it left my eyes was when she did too. "Getting better, though."
