April 19th

Down from the country road

To the waterwheel

You were standing on a giant stone

In your grandpa’s coat

I was sitting on a bench in my yard, waiting for N. to drive by and pick me up. A cherry red 1993 VW Golf slipped into the yard. As I caught a glimpse of it, I dashed towards the car. The girl waved. Through a crack in a rolled-down window, I spotted a rather huge dog. I threw my backpack in the trunk and plunged into the passenger seat. Sid The Dog was too busy panting and drooling all over the backseat to pay any attention to my intrusion.

In half an hour’s time, we pulled over at a gas station. As N. was refueling the car, I turned back to the dog. It seemed foolish and friendly.

The place we were heading to was some fifteen minutes away. Having left the car near a dilapidated shed, the three of us went down a country road. Before our eyes stretched fields, forests, riverbeds and meadows.

“Some time ago, I would be riding my horse over those hills.”

The mischievous creature was cavorting and leaping with delight by our side. I took the tether from the girl’s hand. “Don’t let him loose, for he may run away, poor fool.”

The riverbed was hidden behind some thick high withered grass. I took my coat off and threw it on the dry black earth. As we sat down, the dog leapt at me and licked my ear. We laughed. I took a mango out of my backpack and cleaved it with my pocket knife. “It is important that some sort of ritual be established”, thought I, offering a half to the girl.