They pulled it out as far as it could go, right up to the breaking point, incredulous that it had one, finding it after all. Past the end of their endless tryst, the tension broke, the binding snapped, broke back on them, brought them both to the loneliness of their youth.
The wind-scoured flats were unremitting to each in their own way. For Jack, they beat his cross with dust, erased the name, until it was as if he'd never been. For Ennis, the wind against the horse trailer made for him a sudden grave, dead horses, at a single curve.