Perhaps we could

The pencil lies across the fold. It has been sharpened with a knife.

On an earlier page: Move the chairs into the shade. Below it, in another hand: The shade moves.

There is a drawing of a tree, crossed out. A little farther down, the tree has been drawn again. This time the chairs have arrows beside them.

You turn back to the unfinished sentence. Perhaps we could. There is no date, and no name.

From the terrace, somebody asks whether you have seen a pencil. You lift it. They nod and go on talking.

You set it beside the notebook. A breeze lifts the corner of the page, then lets it fall.