About the work

The pigeon was the only one who didn’t mind that they had found nothing. It had followed them for three miles, from the edge of the woods, past the abandoned chapel, and all the way to the bus stop. It picked at something invisible near the woman’s boot. They had set out with such certainty, with new knives and wicker baskets, imagining the dark, damp earth giving up its secrets. Now, the baskets were empty, and the fading light made their faces look drawn. The woman would try to make a soup from the few potatoes left in the larder, but it wouldn’t be enough. Why did the pigeon follow them all that way?