Small stack of old letters and photos tied with twine.

Estate Sale

Somewhere amongst the detritus of my younger days—the moldering books, the broken music-box, the worn-out dancing shoes—is a letter that contains your signature and a broken promise. Our entire history could be read in its creases and ragged edges, if I cared to find it.

Photo: shooting stars against the backdrop of the Milky Way

Casting nets

The Perseids dart overhead, a school of fish in a boundless dark sea. I count them for you, trace a path along a river of stars. Trace, also, the pale curve of your shoulder. "What did you wish for?" I ask. Your eyes are bright. "An eternity of this."