i am feeling very quiet today. i don’t have much to say, so i am going to let someone else do the speaking for me:
“Home.” Leo worked at a small sliver of wood on the old trunk. “The Island’s always been home to me. How did you like living in New York?”
“I loved it and I hated it. I learned a lot.”
“Like what?” Leo stopped pulling at the sliver and looked at me.
I looked out to the sea. Near the horizon I saw something dark leap out of the water in a beautiful arc. A porpoise. I shivered. “Oh—how very protected we’d been, living in a tiny village like Thornhill all our lives, with visits to the Island a couple of times a year. I’d been under the illusion that most people are pretty good.”