Getting there

 

Trees and your eyes terrify me, he said, even after all their talks. Trees and my eyes, she repeated inside
her head, liking the sound. She told him that she didn't cry much or often, and on this day she prayed
for tears.

The early drive was pleasant enough. He was glad to be taking her, and wanted to do it. She brought
the coffee. His suit slumped on the backseat. He had things to say that they knew he could say while
looking ahead. She wanted to hear him.

A sappy song came on and he touched her hand. He continued talking. She thought of losing her
sisters. Tears appeared, blurring the trees. She breathed thank you out the window and tried to save
some for the service.