Secret Messages

A Little Comfort, Written on Small Stones, Sunk in the River: Day Thirteen

This post is part of the Secret Messages Project.  Every day for thirty days, I’ll leave my words in places where they might be found — or might never be found at all.  I hope you’ll join me. 

I go down to the river where it curls close to Salem Park.  Where it ripples shallow over stones.

It’s raining — cold, slow rain that’s almost ice.

I carry in my pocket four small stones, each bearing a word.

I find the right place, there in the shallows.  It’s a place where the current is moving too fast for ice to form, but slow enough that the stones will rest where I leave them:

riverblur

I sink the stones in the river.

I leave them there for you.

If you ever come here, alone, on a day as gray as this one, maybe you’ll hear the words I’m whispering to you.  Maybe the river will mutter them in your ear, whether or not you see the stones shining through the surface:

riverstones1

Never, never, never, Friend:

You
are
never

alone.

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