Harriet
I wake up in the middle of my bed with swollen eyes and a scratchy throat and I stare at my ceiling.
Nolan, I think, and my eyes shut in relief. His name is Nolan.
I didn't forget.
I think of the way his hair curls at his collar. The way his laugh feels pressed against my back, his arm slung heavy over my hip.
A tear escapes the corner of my eye.
Remember, a coaxing voice in the back of my mind whispers. Remember and wait.
I pull myself out of bed and shuffle down the stairs. I pick up the discarded compass from the floor and set it on the mantel. Then I make a cup of coffee, and I wait.
I sit by the window, I watch the water, and I wait.
I watch the sun move through the sky, and I wait.
I watch the stars wink to life, and I wait.
I fall into an uneasy sleep on my couch. In my dreams, I wait.
Nolan doesn't come, but I wait.
Tomorrow comes and goes. So does the next day.
I place a candle in the window and I remember.
I remember and I wait.