I ask her what kind of animal she’d be if she were not human and was an animal She says, “a chicken” and I ask her “why (?)” She says, “she likes to travel” and I like her answer and tell her I’d be a wolf and she asks me “why (?)” and I tell her, “Because I like to dress up like my grandmother” And she smiles and says she understands
She likes floral patterns for wallpaper and I like roosters or apples – at least for the kitchen Roosters or apples, surrounded by flowers - and we both shake our heads in agreement Red apples, red and brown roosters and flowers neither red, nor brown Yellows, blues, and purples – all blistering, bright and brilliant Illustrated color panels stick to the walls, agreeably and we smile in unison
“I’d be the number 7”, she says, and I ask her “why (?)” “Because it’s prettier sounding than six with twice the syllables” she tells me “I like 7”, I observe – then think of the number 42 I say the two-digit number aloud and she smiles again. “It answers everything (!)”, she exclaims and I tend to agree – and return her smile “If the devil is 6 (?)” I say and she replies, “If man is 5 (?)” and then we both immediately realize we are a perfect pair
I like watermelon, – seedless and in July and I learn she prefers other melons throughout the year - honey dew and, and on occasion, cantaloupe
We, then, slowly walk - in opposite directions both of us glancing backwards at the other – despair settling in “If he only liked cantaloupe (?)…”, she pondered “If she only appreciated watermelon – on a hot summer’s day… (?)”, I questioned So, I huff, and I puff, and she runs like hell avoiding the traffic – the best she can
I, frantic, run into a tiny house inhabited by a posse of men shorter than I and a woman unconscious – in a coma (?) lying on a bed, frighteningly pale “One of the pigs is over there”, one little person exclaims “She likes bricks”, he tells me – and I, too, like bricks
So, I begin the short walk to her abode and will ask her if she prefers pie or cake – and if she says “pie”, I hope she’ll choose cherry – and, if she says “cake”, I hope she’ll say “lemon”
And, if she then adds, “with whipped cream” or “with extra frosting”, I’ll gladly listen to her oink – every day and for every night for as long as we both shall live
- and I’ll never eat her
I promise
Photo: Jimmy Broccoli
