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Hoophollowed like a seashell, swept onto the shore.

Hollow like a story Waiting to unfold

Harland by Lucy Catherine

P was there

Will you love me

When I'm gone I am a fixed point. Everything is in motion around me. The world turns. Monday becomes Tuesday.

It'll be light again in less than an hour. I've been sitting at my desk staring at Sarah's phone for eternity.

An object she once held in her fingers.

She kept it next to her heart in the inside pocket of her jacket.

She breathed over it when taking a call.

I feel her presence as I navigate the lock screen trying to find a way through,

as if an invisible echo of her is travelling around the room,

like a radio wave or a tiny ghost.

If I could get into this phone, her life would be laid out before me in a photo stream.

I might hear her laugh or see her dancing on some random video of a drunken night out.

She feels close, but it's all an illusion.

The security on the phone is through the roof.

I'll never be able to break it.

And Sarah is dead.

There, you with us?

Morning, Bob.

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