a stroll

Contanza paints the night with her breath; I can't hardly see her face... not that I want to but she insists on blowing air out onto this frozen night. She walks behind me and our shadows are one. We are a chubby giant. It's the jackets.

"Plethora" , she mumbles.
"Is that your new word?"
"An embarrassment of riches".
"Not again".
When I silence her she gets lost in the cloud she exhales. She's a walking dictionary or an obssesed empty head.
"Why go to extremes?".
"Yes, in one hand overabundance and in the other one excess of need".
"We are here!" I cry.

We knock on the door and no one hears us. It is the eternal ending. They are never home. "Don't knock next time, just walk in" we were told. But we can't, what if a dog jumps on our chests and bites our eyes... we resign and undo our steps in frustrated silence; this time Constanza is the monter's head while she plays dragon on the surface of the night. Share