Pines(92)

Inside the house, a boy is crying.
A man failing to hold back tears of his own.
Three people entangled in a fierce embrace with no letting go in sight.
And outside, at the exact moment the streetlamps cut on, a noise begins somewhere in the hedges that grow along the porch, repeating at perfect intervals, as steady as a metronome.
It is the sound of a cricket chirping.