The necklace
Sitting by a rocky lake, staring at a sky that had begun to change colors, she held a coffee mug filled with beer.
The water moved slowly in front of her as the wind stirred the branches at the tops of the trees.
From the lake, a man emerged. When he noticed her, he dissolved into water and slipped back beneath the surface.
She looked at the lake, then at the mug, and back at the lake before pouring the beer onto the ground.
Stumbling to her feet, she went into the tent. The next morning, when she woke, she saw the man on the far side of the lake through a small opening in the tent’s zipper.
He lifted water with his hands and spread it over an invisible table like a cloth. Then he rolled it and stretched it until it became a thin rope.
Grabbing a nearby rock, he tied one end to it and threw it into the sky. He tied the other end to a random tree.
When the day ended and she was finishing the fish she had caught earlier, the fire dimmed and the man returned.
Moonlight reflected off the rope as he untied it and began to pull. She quietly stepped away from the fire and hid behind the tent.
As he pulled, a few stars—still moving—caught on the rope and slowly descended from the sky.
When he had pulled enough that the rock returned to his hand, he untied it and rolled the rope tighter and tighter over the invisible table.
After a few minutes, the rope and the stars had become a necklace. He placed it in the lake for her to fish out in the morning.
