Pamela San Francisco — 1906 Night Promises

Ryan is tired of talking to men who will not listen. He is weary of offering explanations to those who cannot hear. But the past plays on like an old movie with a ghost audience, which some might argue is no audience at all. Perhaps it answers the age-old question; does a tree falling in solitude make a sound if only the dead, and a crow, can hear it? Will his words seep like understanding into Neil’s consciousness? He sighs and continues Pamela’s story.

“Pamela and Jenny head homeward. The girls hold hands, giggling, whispering secrets. Dusk tints the tent city, softening its hard edges, muting its color into shades of grey.