Wheeling Gull Isle drink and shout

When he dropped his eyes again, Dinah was gone, just like her mother. Caracal’s arm fell limp, his head pounding right along with his heart. He should go after them, he knew. He should apologize for his sins and beg for forgiveness.

But rather than reach out to him in his trials, they, like God, had turned their backs on him. Rather than meet him with love, patience and understanding, they had been quick to spite him and leave him.

Unlike them, he wasn’t angry. Caracal was just broken. He resumed his walk to the stash of fruit, mindlessly uncovering it and staring down at the pile of bubbling mush. He could eat all of it and finish with total self-destruction.

Instead, Caracal began walking. He paid no attention to where he was going, though somehow he ended up among the lavenders. They were his wife’s favorite. He started to bawl. He hid himself in the purple blossoms, yanking a fistful from the soil and wiping tears from his face with them.