He tired of the game and turned to look instead at the city skyline. Though the snow-laden air smudged the shapes, he could still distinguish the apartment block where he and Maria had lived. Beautiful Maria, like a shaft of sunlight through rain clouds. She was all that had kept him going when the company had fired him. And now she was gone.

This was where they'd met. This bridge had always been one of his favourite places. The idea of being suspended above the flowing river appealed to him more deeply than he would ever admit. Admit to anyone except Maria, that is.

She had spoken first, that day. He had seen her standing at the same spot he usually stood and thought things over. Like a cat she seemed, beautiful and regal. He had been drawn to her. Unperturbed, he stood by her and leant on the railings.

"I always wonder what it must be like to live in the river." Her voice had been rich and sensual, unhurried. "What it must be like to breathe water, or to swim down to the riverbed."

"I look at the specks of driftwood and think how much we are like them, carried along on the current of time, with no idea where we are going and only a vague idea of where we have been. It helps me put things into perspective."

"What do you do, that needs to be put into perspective?"

"I'm a salesman. I sell encyclopaedias door to door. When I've had a door slammed in my face at the end of the day for the third day running, I need to put my life into perspective.

"What do you do that makes you wonder about life in the river?"

"Nothing much. I just wonder. I'm like that. My name's Maria."

He had turned to look at her for the first time, and she had been beautiful. "And my name's John, John Smith." She had laughed at that.

"So we can't call ourselves Mr and Mrs Smith when we book into the motel, then?"

He closed his eyes and thought about that first night, the intensity of their togetherness, the urgent need which had brought them together. They had talked more, of course. They had gone to a cafe, then a restaurant, but they both knew. Once the idea was there, once Maria had said that, the thought was there and it was going to happen. And it had been good.

It had been inevitable. Like this moment. He opened his eyes again, and found the river.

The doll bobbed in the water. As it turned and twisted, its single remaining arm waved at him. It had blond hair and blue eyes, like Maria.

That was when he made his decision to join her, to find her and to be with her. He lifted his eyes from the doll and gazed further into the distance, where the river joined the sea and the clouds met the water, and he thought about what he had to do next.

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