The 28th day of September 2023

Madame,

I’m preparing to spend the day at the waterside. Its parks and benches naturally remind me of you. I remember sharing a hug by the water and a passing boat sounding its horn at us, its passengers waving. I remember feeling inordinately proud to be seen with you in my arms.

I’m hoping a long walk today will serve to put my mind at rest in some small way on my thoughts of you and on troubles I needn’t bore you with.

I’ll write again later, determined as I am to find myself in a more jovial disposition.

Once again, I’m counting the days until you return.

Yours, A.

P.S. I took a stroll through the park this morning and spotted our couple. They lay amongst each other. She was reclined facing him, his hands softly on either side of her face. He cradled her there. It looked like they had been there for some time and had no intention of moving.

Replaying the week before you went away over and over.