… How long had it been since he left for that trip, her own man? The letters had stopped coming regularly as he went farther and farther afield in the world. When they did come now, in no set pattern, they had no return address. She could not communicate back. She thought of the letters as cairns on a hiking path, at first they guided her to a sure understanding about his coming back. Now however, as they came farther and farther apart, they left her in odd places in the wilderness, alone, and not sure if they really marked any path anymore. A dripping faucet somewhere in the cabin underlined her solitude. …
Odilonvert 