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This is so good!


In my coat pocket, there were matches. I started a fire. A raven glided past and landed in the nearby tree. He croaked loudly and was answered by another raven from across the canyon. I put more sticks on the fire. Thin had been right in that I didn't have friends. What I had were people who needed what I could do for them. I had rocks and trees. I had fire and ravens. And I had patterns.

Inside was an albino man. His hair was typing-paper-white, and his eyes were red. He looked up at us as we knocked on his door, recognized Pascal, and said hello to him. He glanced at me and spoke to Pascal, “Don’t be asking for specialized exceptions. I am booked solid in an extravagant manner.” He said this with pauses as if he was crudely fishing with worms for big words in a stagnant pond.

Then she said to me, whispering, “Be with me now. I will be ‘other girl,’ you will be ‘other boy.’ We close our eyes in this green place. We pretend.” Crazy is crazy, but lonely is lonely. I do not know which is the saddest.

"Her English was beginner-flawed, but her meaning was a song. I remembered when my stutter was strong, and I used a handful of words that would not twist or bounce. She spoke like this, careful with her sounds, precise with her meaning, but with the ‘so what’ to the syntax that never really matters. I understood her perfectly. I felt nothing was hidden, and I wanted to hear more."