Tom saw them for the first time that summer: three lights floating silently over the lake. They moved not like airplanes, but like thoughts—abruptly, gently, illogically. He didn't tell anyone, but returned every night.
During the third week, one of the lights blinked three times, paused, then blinked twice. Tom responded with a flashlight. The answer came immediately. In the weeks that followed, they developed a silent pattern, without words but full of meaning.
One evening, the lights were gone. On the dock lay a small, smooth stone, warm even though it was cold. When Tom held it, he dreamed of stars moving like lights over a still lake.