You knew my mother was here | Moth Work

Lonan has stopped paddling. The canoe sits in the middle of the lake, lifeless like a bone in the water. He’s turned so Harrison sees him in profile and can’t tell if it’s relieving or worrying to see his face. Lonan’s jaw is taut, like there are words he wants to say but can’t. Filling up the hollow bone. He blinks slowly, like he’s trying to re-centre himself, his chest quivering with breaths meant to steady him. The water laps at the base of the canoe, whirling like his head. Dark hair tangles down his cheeks like the fingers of a poltergeist.

“You knew my mother was here,” Lonan says.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Research.”

LONAN PORTRAIT TO GRACE (HAUNT?) YOUR DASH!! <3

Excerpt circa 2019.