Thursday, 18 October 2012

A Note




It was evening when you came to the bench by the river. You saw the rock sitting on the note on the spot where you normally sit, so you sat on the other end of the bench. You picked up the rock and saw that the note was addressed to you, so you opened it.

Sometimes I think it’s enough for me to know that you are alive and on the planet at the same time I am. Sometimes I’m just glad to know that you look at the same moon that I do at night. But mostly I’d like you to take my hand and hold it for a while.

And you knew exactly what she meant. You put the rock in your pocket and closed your fist around her note and then you breathed deeply. 



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