Six Leaf-Lengths, page 9 of 12

Pip holds a marked dry leaf above his head mid-explanation while the water closes over the place where Dawn has just gone under, undeterred.

He copied the summer onto a dry leaf, for winter, in case the sea forgot. Then a second leaf, of everything, for her to take down with her.

It is made of dry, said Dawn, and went under while he was still explaining it.

She came back the next morning as if nothing had been said.

© 2026 A.J.Sharpe