By the Long Island Sound

Water holds memories. It holds truth.

It is patient and constant. It accepts what comes through it, shapes itself for it, and settles back into itself — reflecting and continuing on. It remembers, and it remembers well.

This is a romance, not because I say it is, but because it was. In first person, I'd be an unreliable narrator. So instead, it's told by the water. By the Long Island Sound. A narrator that witnessed everything, remembers it clearly, and doesn't bend the details.

If the water was our spectator, and my camera was its eyes, I hope this story serves our memories right.

— Andrew