She sat and convinced the sun to set. We were alone in our moments. She and the sea, and me watching her, the strangely familiar girl. I knew there was something about her that I could not place. Was it her faded, sun coloured hair? Or the steady shuffle of her feet, raking the coals of a thousand sand crabs left by the tide? Or maybe it was just the look of determination as she stared at the darkening sky? The truth is that the more I thought knew her, the more I wanted to run to her if only to ask what hidden memory had she stolen from me and where we had first crossed paths.
But at that very moment I realized I did not know who she was. The gritty, salty wind tore at the sand and lost souls teased my already wet shoes again and again. It was just a short moment of time as she sat, huddled in the strange comfort of an explosion, an excavation, an entrance into my mind. What could become of it? I merely watched her from a distance as if an echo of the future. I thought I'd never see her again, but I was wrong.
Later, I learned that even if I had tried I couldn't separate that our paths could not be separated. As if tied together like rails of track, we had lived in the same towns again and again. We attended the same churches, schools, and events in our childhood. Perhaps there were other memories at one point, but this was the earliest moment that I remember her as June.
