© Jonty Cornford 2019 Hush By Jonty Cornford The man could still remember the last thing he said to his daughter. When she was sleeping, head rested on his shoulder like it was now, he could still hear it. Sometimes he could hear it as if it were being spoken again. His thumb brushed across the scar above her ear, visible beneath her short cut hair, as he watched the ash fall outside. It never really stopped, but right now it was falling heavier than usual. Sometimes it was lighter, and sometimes it reminded him of the first and only time he saw snow as a child. In that moment he was struck by the thought that it really wasn't that long ago. He was probably about his daughter's age. He thought about the fact that she had only ever seen ash, never snow. The world had been mute for almost seven years now. Just as the man had started to be able to communicate meaningfully with his daughter, just as she had begun to realis...
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