Before I knew it, it was summer. Children had begun to play under the pier. In the early mornings they would be silent. skittering around the edges of the shore, staying clearly away from me who had learned during the days of fog how to fold into the crevices of the pier and the shore. You would barely notice me Kate. I don’t even mean my appearance. Even if you could look past my skin and the scabs and the smell, you still would have a hard time finding me. Long ago, would you have started to pass me by as the sun reached high noon in my estern town. You would walk past me and all the rest of the gentlemen under the pier. Our clothes long ao had lost hteir color. Our skin had become the same hue and the sand and we long ago learne dto be quiet when thechildren skittered along the shore. No, Kate, you would have long ago forgotten what I looked like and certainly, I know, you would have lost me with our family as you passed by me under the pier on the shore for I had learne dto be lost. I saw you a number of times though. I saw you there, with him, lost with your children. Avoiding my little nook and cranny. I saw you. Even if you didn’t see me