Mont Foster

[song: “Erlkönig” Opus 1, D. 328, by Franz Schubert]

What is it, Chloé?

Seen the Erlking again?

It was a good idea to come here.

Yes.

The Erlking and other poems

Illustrated by Chloé L'Espérance

-You locked the shed? -Yeah, the lawn mower's in there.

-What's the combination? -Two.

That's the last number.

The others are already set. It's easier that way.

Hum.

One day, he's going to fall in!

”She.”

Toulouse is a girl.

Hey!

Chloé?

[song: "Agnus Dei" Mass in B minor by Johann Sebastian Bach]

I've been looking all over for you.

Why?

You've been gone five hours.

We have to put something in the window.

And the view?

Fuck the view.

What are you looking at?

"Father, do you not see the Erlking?"

"My son, it is but a streak of fog."

Did you use the wheelbarrow today?

No.

You sure?

Yes.

Why?

No reason.

You used to take it off sometimes.

Not anymore.

Because you need to reassure yourself?

About what?

I don't know.

That you still love me.

Nothing to say?

Why are you asking this?

Mathieu, I'm scared.

Please say something.

Wedding rings should never come off.

Sarah and Francis said they'd come for supper.

We could have a barbecue.

Shit!

Shit, shit!

Shit!

Ah!

I was making dessert.

What was it?

Hard to say now.

He's here.

"Donna Donna" by Joan Baez

"My father, my father, do you not hear the Erlking?"

"Be calm, my child, 'tis merely the wind in the dry leaves."

Holy shit.

Must have been the storm.

Hum!

That's it?

What can we do?

It's for our safety, Chloé.

Over time, a prosecutor makes enemies.

It's part of the job.

Take it in your right hand,

put your left hand... -No.

Then, you aim.

[slow sound of blade moving across cutting board]

So...

What?

We act like nothing's happened?

Is that the plan, Ms. Shrink?

The plan is to be with them,

and show them that life goes on.

Okay.

You've got the wine?

C'mon, smile!

You okay?

Yes.

Chloé's taking a nap.

How's she doing?

I don't know.

It's a terrible thing that happened.

I can't imagine what it's like for you.

For her.

She must feel so guilty.

Why?

It was an accident.

So, you're writing another book?

Another psychedelic thriller?