Hello.

I'd never known before that day how such a small word could contain so much.

Hello.

It was barely a word.

It was an utterance.

It was an infinitesimal greeting, a fleeting acknowledgement, two syllables so weak alone that they might be caught in a breeze and carried far away from the person who spoke them.

Hello.

It was nothing.

Hello.

It was everything.

Hello.

It was the first word he ever said to me.

Hello.

It was the last word he ever said to me.

Hello.

It was the word I'd searched for without knowing why.

Hello.

Hello.