to look at the barn is to pick up willa’s guts and work neat, taut knots into them. they don’t know why in particular it’s become a focal point for whatever fear, regret, anxieties they’re harbouring, only that maybe it’s better to play an association game than it is to look at things head on. the barn is where they made waverly walk the beams, where she would train with daddy, and now it’s where they find bobo.
they pick at a rusted nail in one of the support beams until they can pull it out and curl it into the flat of their palm. “i wish wynonna would let me sleep out here.” it’s in direct contradiction to their worries, they know. all the same. wryly, picking on boys can’t sleepover with girls, even though both of them are neither: “but i guess i couldn’t share with you anyway.” — @lautrui