COMMUNICATIONS OF A KIND
Ben had taken the afternoon off. No-one knew, because he was technically out making observations. He had his little notebook and his camera and his backpack. He had climbed up a slope and fallen down it again, slipping on scree. He had laughed at himself both for slipping and for even considering whether it was scree or lumps of rock, because the day was hot and the weather was steady. It was the perfect weather for self-mockery.
He sat down on the nearest fixed lump and looked around. No-one could see him from here. Not the people from the village, not the people from under the hill. He took out his water bottle and swigged. Then he put his backpack on the ground, stretched out next to it, and watched the sky flow past.
If anyone had asked, he would have claime
