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"
One
,
"
said
Sam
.
"
Sam
!
"
said
Elma
.
"
Listen
to
me
,
"
said
the
girl
.
"
Two
,
"
said
Sam
firmly
,
cocking
the
gun
trigger
.
"
Sam
!
"
cried
Elma
.
"
Three
,
"
said
Sam
.
"
We
only
—
"
said
the
girl
.
The
gun
went
off
.
In
the
sunlight
,
snow
melts
,
crystals
evaporate
into
a
steam
,
into
nothing
.
In
the
firelight
,
vapors
dance
and
vanish
.
In
the
core
of
a
volcano
,
fragile
things
burst
and
disappear
.
The
girl
,
in
the
gunfire
,
in
the
heat
,
in
the
concussion
,
folded
like
a
soft
scarf
,
melted
like
a
crystal
figurine
.
What
was
left
of
her
,
ice
,
snowflake
,
smoke
,
blew
away
in
the
wind
.
The
tiller
seat
was
empty
.
Sam
holstered
his
gun
and
did
not
look
at
his
wife
.
