We’d gone somewhere for dinner
Down by the southern coast
A little road off the highway
A white wooden house at dusk

We laughed and talked as the Sun sighed
Then sank beneath the water
The hosts were kind and warm
It had been years since we’d seen them

As things started to wind down
The food consumed, the wine too
We made promises to keep in touch
It all seemed very natural

On the way back home, you were driving
And said ‘Let’s go for a walk’
You stopped the car near the beach
We got out and started walking

Cold sand beneath my feet
Smoky stars up above
Hanging salty atmosphere
The sound of waves nearby

We must have walked for miles
We reached the northern point
Couldn’t go any further
We sat on the rocks and looked out to sea

After a while you looked at me
‘Do you ever feel like driving further and never stopping?’ you asked
I wasn’t sure what to say.
‘Um… you mean like going to live somewhere else?’

You shook your head:
‘No, I mean going somewhere …
where there aren’t so many people …
not so much noise …
and money doesn’t matter so much.’

I smiled: ‘It sounds great.’
You looked at the sea again.
‘I’ve wanted to keep driving up the coast road for years…
just to see where it would lead, you know?’
Maybe some coastal town full of surfers
Maybe some place where people catch fish
Or maybe something else altogether
Someone else altogether.

We were silent walking back to the car
But nothing needed to be said:
I knew you were already gone.