Gravel presses against my feet, both bare and damp. It seems almost painfully cold due to the weather. I wrap my arms together to keep warm but it doesn't seem to help enough. 

"So, it's been 14 years. Everyone's doing great. We still work at the same place but it's hard to get a real job. You knew that but you tried so hard." 

After a moment's pause, I expel a sigh. My breath sounds like I'm being shaken up even though I'm sitting still. An icy [bad word] just across my legs as they sit bent in front of me. On my feet, a moth lands and cleans its wings. My face aches and I bury it in my hands. 

"... Sometimes [bad word] all at once and I cry myself to sleep. Sometimes it's just a glimpse and I have to put it out of my mind. I've had a lot of late nights. I feel like there was so much more to say. The hole you left is only scarring over." 

The weathered sundial, still and voiceless, passes another notch as the clouds obscure the sun.