box… whether she chose to examine her own patterns in light of her father’s history… whether she eventually sought contact or maintained our separation…
Those outcomes belonged to her journey now.
Not mine.
At sunset, I received a text from Jonathan.
Delivery completed at Maple Avenue. Courier scheduled for portfolio tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.
I sent a brief acknowledgement, then set my phone aside and walked down to the dock where the evening light gilded the water’s surface.
A pair of herons waited in the shallows, their patient