…about clouds

Mandy looked away from the increasingly shrouded horizon and back up the beach to where Dan was constructing the shelter. She didn’t want to tell him about the caves she’d found while he was asleep, drunk on the last of the rum that had washed up from the broken boat that lay speared by the far edge of the reff.

Everything she’d said and done in the past two days had been designed to uss Dan out, to figure out if he was going to take this opportunity to assert himself in their barely birthed relationship or if he was going to accept her as an equal partner.

The wind picked up throwing microscopic granules of salt against Mandy’s face. She checked the horizon again. The height of the cloud bank had doubled and advanced, blotting out the tall peak from the island to their west.

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