Parker — on foot

I walked down rather than taking the bus. The road has too many turns to be trusted with a timetable, and I wanted to arrive without having been announced.

The beach was quieter than I expected. Mid-morning gives people excuses to be elsewhere. I did not sit on the bench. This felt important, though I could not have said why. I stood instead, looking out at the water, which was undecided.

Near the base of the bench, I noticed the pale stone again. It had not moved. I recognised this as information.

I picked it up. It fitted the hand without insisting on itself. I turned it over once, then twice. It occurred to me that one might draw on it, or write something small. An initial, perhaps. I do not care for initials. They suggest ownership.

I placed the stone on the bench, but not where one would naturally look. A little to the side. Near enough to be found, far enough to be missed. This seemed a fair compromise.

I stepped back and considered it. The stone did not look like a message. That pleased me.

After a moment, I moved it again. Just slightly. I told myself this was to improve its balance.

I left without sitting down.

If she finds it, she will find it by accident. If she does not, nothing will have been lost. I wonder where all of this is heading…….