I said “I love you” to a stone.

I said “I love you” to a stone, so it would understand why I couldn’t take it home. It was resting alone on a wall and I gave it all my loneliness so I could pity a rock instead of myself. And because it was such a lonely stone, I wondered if I should take it with me. But I knew it must certainly be happier under a tree at the fairground than in the sad atmosphere of waiting that permeates my loft. So I offered it reassurance and reluctantly left it on the hill. And boy did I mean what I said. There were tears in my eyes.