“Duh!” Geoffrey finally thought to study the part cursive, half-printed penmanship closely to see if it looked at all familiar. He should have thought to do so days ago. It was hard to tell, though, with everything squeezed in, crooked, and slanted. Writing on a rock wasn’t easy, Geoffrey knew, and the difficulty involved changed one’s normal style. He sighed. “Why not just come out and ask?” Geoffrey looked skyward, “Should I?” hoping Max would have an answer.
Is this Ryan?
The unsteadiness of the writing this time came partially from emotion. Ryan had never contacted Geoffrey to apologize, to thank him for not pressing charges, to extend his sympathy when Max died, or even to officially end their relationship. Geoffrey had recently heard that his ex had moved to Connecticut, but that didn’t mean Ryan couldn’t move back or visit.