The other shore is out of reach. In your mind the horizon opens up, and makes the water stretch endlessly before you. The sound of the waves pulls at you, it takes you back to when you were in another home.

It starts to rain, the driftwood on the shore is getting wet, the air is cold and bears no trace of iodine. Some feathers and muddy pebbles stick to your feet.

You turn away and take a few steps past the trees. You can’t see the water anymore, it stays in the back of your mind somewhere.