The Moving Rock, A mysterious rock moved after my boyfriend’s death, finally resting at his grave.
In the Fall of 1994, I faced an unexpected tragedy when my boyfriend passed away. The day before he died, we had visited the beach together, collecting stones and shells. As we left, we each chose one item to take with us; I selected a perfectly smooth, almond-shaped rock. I placed it on a shelf in my bedroom when I got home.
The day after, he unexpectedly passed away. In the days leading up to his funeral, something strange occurred: the rock started moving. I never actually saw it move, but I noticed its new locations frequently—next to my bed, on top of my record player, on the windowsill, under my bed, back on the shelf, and even across the room to a different shelf. This eerie phenomenon left me feeling a mix of fear, comfort, confusion, and anger.
On the day of his funeral, I took the rock with me and placed it at his gravesite. Since then, it has remained still, not moving from its resting place. The rock’s unsettling journey had ended, and with it, my feelings of unease.
