We stumbled on the broken deck of a ship, cast far up on the sand and rocks. It was broken and smashed and yet still held its shape. Rusted iron hoops clung to the remnants of ropes long since rendered useless, and I swear that I saw the last traces of wet foot prints vanishing from the wood as I watched.
A message of love scratched into the stones, spoke of love broken but not smashed by distance and time. Abandoned and lost among the rocks, it still gleamed red and vibrant. We looked out across the waves, but no one came, and the wind whistled as it always has, across the ocean of time. We were alone among the debris of life, tossed up on some forgotten shore.