The Woman Who Waited

by Andrei Makine

  Above the dark line of the boat I can still make out the figure in a long cavalry greatcoat. Despite the distance, it seems to me as if I can hear the tinkling of the ice as it breaks. The same ringing sound that fills the glowing expanse of the sky. Now the sound ceases, as it does when the oar suspends its thrusting motion, comes to rest. I believe I can make out the gesture of an arm waving above the boat, yes, I can see it, I hasten to respond …

  And the sound resumes, faint, unwavering.