With all the components in place, and the device fitted neatly into its containing box, he sighed and sat back. His brow was damp and his eyes stinging from the strain of concentrating so hard for so long. Composing himself, he took another deep breath and leant forward to complete the task. This was the tricky bit, attaching the leads of the detonator. He selected the blue one, twisted the vivid copper wire, and slotted it into the connector. As he tightened the tiny screw to hold it in place, he noticed his hand was trembling. Next, the red wire, and again its exposed strands were pinched and turned. Cautiously, he moved it to the device and just as bare wire touched connector the woman shields her eyes from the brightness and turns to face the bay. Afternoon sun lights the trembling leaves of the silver birch and they look like blossoms, as if autumn has been magically replaced by spring. She sighs. Such beauty there is in the world, what ecstasy to feel so connected. At times she thinks her heart will explode with the joy of it all. The children, tired of their chase, have quit the shining strand and are plodding up the hill towards her. She composes herself, stands to meet them. It is time to go home.
November 7, 2015