Читать книгу The Water-Breather - Ben Faccini - Страница 5

He stands at the edge of the lake and rolls a dry leaf between his fingers. It crumbles apart, pieces flutter from the palm of his hand, down onto the surface of the water beside him. He watches them spin and drift in opposite directions. With the end of his walking-stick, he pushes against thin ridges of mud. They fall away. Water moves forward, running down lines of earth, filling pockets, creating pools.

He sits down on the grass. He lays his head on his knees and closes his eyes. The sounds of the lake wash against his feet.