Monday, August 11, 2008

A Felicitous Encounter

The girl’s pallid hand was cupped in the air. It looked about as if to catch something. Turning, turning, it saw nothing and so coiled back into a small white fist.

Trumpet, a hirsute man with a magnificent baldspot in the back of his head, approached the girl with the tiny pallid hand. He did not speak at first but instead stood admiring the little creature. She too admired the man, smiling and laughing at his bearded, silly face.

Trumpet then made a suggestion: we should buy a chicken. The girl’s fingers seemed to flutter at the idea, and her smile gave a slight twitch. Oh please, she said finally, oh please can we. Yes of course you little mutt, of course.

They took each other’s alien hands and walked briskly to the nearest shop. On their way they walked over all sorts of things: corks, geraniums, mollusks, celery, &c. Then, finally, they were there.

One chicken please, says the hirsute man.

Handing the chicken to him the vendor winks, knowingly.

The two walk hand in hand to a field. It is vast. They ascend a small hill, then sit. Come here you little mutt, the man says. She does. Give me your hand. She does. Now cup it. She does. The man stands up and raises the chicken in the air. Slowly, noiselessly, a small egg tumbles from the chicken and, gracefully, lands in the tiny cupped hand of the girl. The man, proud of his little mutt, winks at the girl. They both laugh aloud, admiring the egg and the cupped hand and each other.

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