
I look out of the window, see the scudding clouds blowing along parallel with the coast. The house is too quiet, no sounds of you around the corner, or upstairs or outside in the garden .
You must have gone out before the sun rose, before the moon set, while I was asleep curled up in bed.
The door was locked tight after you. I searched for my keys and dressed quickly. Now I need to decide whether to look for you or wait?
The wind is blowing stronger now, the clouds are black and the rain falls in great engulfing rivers, like all the world’s grief descending from the sky.
Two hours of darkness followed the dawn, then gradually a glimmer of sunlight stole under and through the cloud layer. Now I can go and look, now I can see over the sea out as far as the island. Now I might see him? Standing on the pier, holding onto the metal handrail slick with water. I watch, and wait.
(This could also be called “which tense are you writing in? Past or Present?”)