The breeze left traces from the wind across the water in soft ripples. His hand was soft, and it encircled mine as if to protect it from the elements. As we walked along the stony shore, the breeze caught his brown, wavy hair, and it tickled my face where the supple strands played in the wind. The sky and river were blue, the joining of their meeting on the horizon almost indiscernible. He stopped and turned to kiss me, but instead searched my face. He moved backward slowly, dropping my hand and turned toward the river.
I watched as he walked into the water. I watched. He kept walking. I called to him to come back. He didn’t swim; he just kept walking and I saw the water surround his core, and I yelled at him to come back.
Walking.
Stop! Please come back.
The river waves began to engulf him as he slowly faded into the blueness.
Come back!
The waves grew in size and started pounding the shore.
Pounding, pounding.
The contact of the water on the rocks got louder and louder. I covered my ears to stop the hammering while my eyes continued to search the river and my voice screamed for Matthew to come back.