"Do you know the secret of the stones?" she asked as she reached into the stream.
"What secret is that?"
"If you hold it in your hand and listen to it, listen close enough it will tell you a story."
"What story did it tell you?'
"Once there was a boy who came to the water," she said. "This is the story of a girl who came to the water with the boy. They talked and the boy threw the stones as if casting them away from himself. The girl didn't have any stones, so the boy gave her some. Then she gave herself to the boy, and he cast her away as a he would a stone, unmindful of any falling she might feel."
"It's a sad stone then?"
"No, not sad. But it was thrown once. It knows the feel of motion. It has trouble staying the way most stones do. It takes the offer that the water makes and moves sometimes. When it moves it thinks about the boy"
It's hard not to love an author who understands the beauty, allure and isolation that comes from loving movement.
New favorite author? Maybe. Just Maybe
