# 1

Some silences are comfortable, living things. They breathe, or sometimes cough quietly then return to a happy little way they have about them, perhaps smiling contentedly.

This was not such a quiet.

The two brothers had been driving for nearly an hour and a half, yet neither had offered to turn the radio on. They had not spoken when, twenty minutes ago, the younger had pulled the car off at exit 134 to fill up with a tank of gas, enough to make it through Duluth and all the way along the shores of Superior to their destination. He had not asked for money for gas, nor had Duncan, the older brother, offered to reimburse him. Instead, the quiet seemed to grow between them, like a tumor, like a squirming thing in the back seat.

So they continued to sit, Theo driving while Duncan simply gazed out the window at the turbulent grey sky.