THE HALF SECRET

"Some blue sky and sunshine would be nice."

Gabriel, who was walking ahead of Adam, glanced up at the uniformly grey sky. "I know, but at least it's consistent."

They trudged along. 
Consistent? Thought Adam. How was that a plus? It's consistently grey, it's consistently raining? He had long ago given up trying to avoid getting wet, getting muddy, getting sullen.

"It would be good to know where we're going."

Gabriel let go of a small sigh. "I told you."

"No you didn't."

"I did."

"Gabriel. You asked me if I wanted to know half a secret, so I stupidly said yes."

"And I told you."

"Told me crap! Some weird half-truth about something and nothing."

"It is something to me, and it will be to you."

"You are so full of shit sometimes."

He glanced back and smiled. "But you love me, shit and all."

"Humph. Don't bet on it."

"Just be patient."

They tramped further along the trail. They were half way up a barren, desolate hillside. Adam was convinced that it was an industrial slag heap. There was grass, some bushes, even some stunted trees, but it definitely had that pained silence about it, like all man-made scars. They might try to salve their conscience by trying out some rudimentary cut-price landscaping, but once you had gouged out what you wanted from the planet and dumped the rest, no half-assed blanket of cosmetic landscaping was going to do much healing. 

There was silence. No birds, no insects, no scuttling of small mammals. Nothing. It was dead, and would stay dead, at least for the foreseeable future. At least we are a consistent species, mused Adam. He splashed and splurged his way along the trail, following Gabriel to his half secret.