Be Done With It
After a while, Henry heard children talking inside one of the trailers where the woman had gone. The sound of someone unwrapping plastic paper filled the air, and their little voices were filled with delight. After a brief delay, the woman emerged and made her way to the trailer’s back, where she checked a gas pipe before connecting it. But without turning around, she said, “If you’re gonna do something bad, be done with it. If not, join us for dinner, maybe shelter from this wretched rain.” Henry froze.
Be Done With It
Sorry
When the woman smiled and turned around, Henry felt a burning sense of shame. He took a step back uncomfortably while rubbing his nape. He apologized, he said. The woman didn’t know who he was, he had just realized. Her voice and smile were gentle and inviting; her eyes windows to a soul that had experienced all the world had to give. As he went to leave, she pleaded with him to stay “for a cup of coffee at least.” Henry entered the vehicle.
Sorry
