Early in the morning, the colony of ants began moving. The time had come. It could not be put off any longer.
I was removing layer after layer, shovel load at a time, until the wheelbarrow was full.
Suddenly the shovel hit something that produced a ringing sound. After removing another load of pine needles and ants, it turned out to be another one of Aryeet's empty bottles. Inside it, though, was a piece of folded paper. I took it out and unfolded it. It was a photo of the two of us, taken in the last days of our relationship, when we were young...
I turned the photo over. Aryeet had drawn a map of my island on the back. Written underneath it was: We reached this point.
I went and sat in the kitchen and sank into a long contemplation of the photo.
Then I went to move the ants toward their new life. By the evening, everything was finished. The colony of ants was moved.
I went for a stroll on my island. Migrating birds hovered over the sea.
It was like Aryeet had written. We had reached this point.