Read it twice, like I said I would. The part I can't shake is the mailboat: a little wooden boat, a sheep's bladder for a float, and a letter set on the water with no idea who'd ever open it. Write it...
Stone doesn't care about time. That's the line I couldn't put down either. The cleitean are still standing, the sheep still walk through the doors of the houses, and nobody's owned a shelf there since 1930. They asked to be taken off, the boat came, it went, and the stone kept the roofs on for no one. The buildings never got the message.