Benedict Grant

Faultline

As arranged, we spend a week at the cottage, just the two of us, and things seem fine. Routines are important to me, so we follow them: in the mornings, after breakfast, we walk the coastal path to the private cove; afternoons are spent in town, browsing the stores; in the evenings, after supper, we sit on the deck, sip lemonade, and talk. I tell her what life is like here, how I’m settling in. She tells me about school; her music lessons; the part in the play she was perfect for, but didn’t get. She doesn’t volunteer much information about her mother, and I don’t press. The day before she leaves, during our morning walk, her sandal’s small buckle, which has been bravely holding on by a few threads, breaks. She’s inconsolable, batting my hands away when I try to help. I don’t understand why she’s so upset: it’s such a small thing. I’ll stitch it up or buy you a new pair, I say. It’s not that, she says. It’s not that. 

last warm day
taking it indoors
to die

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About the Author

Benedict Grant is an award-winning poet, Pushcart Prize nominee, and author of two collections of haiku and senryu, both published by Red Moon Press: spirit level (2022), shortlisted for the Touchstone Distinguished Books Award, and winterizing (2024), which received an Honorable Mention for this award. He appears in A New Resonance 14: Emerging Voices in English Language Haiku.

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