Hmmm, thought Parker

I had thought the sea would be louder today, but it seems it was merely waiting, or perhaps I was. I walked past the bench a little while ago — not too close, not too far — and imagined her shadow there, as if she had already settled into the shape of the afternoon.

The stone was gone when I looked, which is both reassuring and frustrating. Reassuring because it has found its way, frustrating because I cannot see what it sees, or hear what it keeps. I suppose that is the point.

I did not leave another. That, too, would be declaring something too soon. But I walked the stretch once more, feeling the gulls’ conversation around me, and wondered whether you had noticed the salt in the air, the subtle insistence of the horizon — the parts of the world that keep their own counsel, much like us.

I will not speak of it again, unless we meet and you choose to. For now, let us let the stones, and the quiet, do the talking.

—Parker