“Hmm,” said Clarke.
I said nothing. We stood staring at the Trees from one of the winding pathways. He'd volunteered to join me on a mid-afternoon trek.
“So, this is what you do here,” he half-asked, half-stated. “Just look at ‘em?”
“Yes,” I said, embarrassed. Clarke examined some initials carved in one of the branches.
“So whadda you think caused it? Aliens?” He was mocking me a little.
“Yeah. Or something.”
“I meant the initials.”
“Oh. Ha. Good one.”
“'J.R loves K.T.’” he read. “It’s probably a code.” We stood listening to the wind. “They’re nice.” His arms pressed against the dying leaves.
“They’re scary."
“Yeah, maybe to a wimp like you.” He wandered off the path. I could guess what was coming. “They’re not so scary when you’re pissing on them.” I heard the sound of a zipper.
photograph by Ken Delgarno. More here.
4 comments:
This is probably not at all related to your post, but today I saw a homeless man's penis.
Today, public indecency makes me want to throw up a little.
But, knowing Clark, I understand this. Did you regret taking him?
Ha. No, I didn't regret it. It was maybe a little indecent (maybe maybe maybe), but it wasn't really public.
Sorry, I should clarify: I wondered if you regretted taking him overall (b/c he treated your fear etc. so flippantly), not because of his non-public maybe-indecency.
The other comments were just because...well, I was pretty traumatized, and you know,...I'll leave it there in case Clark ever reads this.
Boyda:
I don't know if you'll read this, but I've been thinking about your question for a while.
It didn't bother me that he was so flippant, but now I can't stop wondering why.
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