Into the water

Perhaps it was almost prophetic that I had this story idea just a week or so before we broke up. I started writing it but didn't think the words justified what the story felt like in my head. Here's a short, raw attempt. I'm still not happy with it, but I might as well share it anyway.

She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her slacks, took a deep breath and heaved it out in a contented sigh. She then proceeded with her evening stroll down the path by the river. It was a quiet day and she didn't see anyone else on the same path.

Then she spotted the young man by the river. He stood so still that she had almost passed him by before noticing him. The unfamiliar young man's back was to her and he didn't seem to have noticed her either, so she paused for a moment, watching him curiously.

He stood very still, looking into the water. Propped on the railing in front of him was a knapsack which he hugged with both arms. Presently, he reached into the bag, sifting unhurriedly through its contents before pulling out a small object.

She stepped forward quietly and craned her neck to see what it was. The young man held up the small stuffed bear and regarded it for a few moments. Then, he let go and it fell into the river. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but saw that he stood looking silently into the water where the bear fell.

He reached into his bag again and drew out a large T-shirt this time. He unfolded it and looked at the print on the shirt. The words were too small for her to make out from where she was. He dropped the T-shirt into the river as well, watching it fall.

He then drew out several small objects in succession, regarding each for just a second before dropping them into the water. She counted them. One, two, three, four. Five. Six. Pause. Seven.

Then he pulled out a small book, wrapped in black and red paper with a photograph stuck onto the front cover. She couldn't make out the small words written underneath, but she saw the two faces that smiled out of the photograph - one of a happy young man, another of a girl with her arms thrown around the young man's neck.

He held the book before him with both hands, looking at the photograph. She waited for him to throw the book into the river as well, but instead, he opened it. He looked at the first page, reading the small handwritten words. Slowly, he turned the page, where another photograph was attached, then the next page which more photographs shared with small pieces of coloured paper with more handwritten words on them.

She saw him tighten his grip on the book, his knuckles turning white. Lowering his head, he started to sob softly. A few minutes passed and still he stood crying over the scrapbook, his body trembling with each sob.

Then he raised his head, sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. He paused for moment, then let go of the book.

He buckled his bag and slung it onto one shoulder. Then, with his left hand, he pulled a ring off the ring finger on his right. This he held on his palm, looking at it silently, before closing his fingers around it and holding it in his fist.

Extending his arm, he held his closed fist over the water. Then, opening his hand, he dropped the ring into the water.

She watched him as he stood silently looking into the river, hunched over the railing. Finally, he bowed his head, turned, and walked away. She watched as his slow, melancholy steps led him some distance down the path before he turned round a corner, away from the evening swish of the river.