Arthur stood up, his knees popping. He didn't look at the house. Instead, he looked at the ledger. He took a heavy brass pen from his pocket and drew a thick, dark line through every single entry in the book.
March 2005: Intended to start that garden Clara always wanted. (Bought the seeds. They’re still in the shed.) INTENTIONS
: Intentions are the bridge between thought and reality, but many people never cross it. Arthur stood up, his knees popping
, like "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." He took a heavy brass pen from his
: While we judge ourselves by our intentions, the world judges us by our actions.
He walked toward the center of the overgrown garden where a massive, rusted sundial sat swallowed by ivy. This was where he had met Clara fifty years ago. Back then, they were young and full of plans. Arthur had intended to build them a house on the hill. He had intended to take her to the coast every summer. He had intended to be the kind of man who never let a day pass without telling her she was his North Star.