The scene is an old bridge, an ancient old bridge of ancient old pastel red, gray, and white waving stones. The scene is a multi-arch bridge over a flat-rippling river wide as a football field. The scene is now so far from me, now so lost to what I’ve somehow become. The scene is for others, for two yet young flames, for two yet possible virtues.
A: You smell nice!
B: You can’t smell another person in her windbreaker on this cool crisp wind-rustling bridgetop!
A: But I remember from before.
B: Thank you.
A: We were going to take a winding walk through the path winding along the river.
A: So I guess, well, let’s get to it!
[She smiles and slides her windbreakered arm into his heavy white cable sailor sweater. They walk along, fresh and free, caught up in the shared glow of their combined glowing. The sky is a little cloudy but still the sun predominates in this winter afternoon. I know that the last scene happened in summer in NYC, at least in my mind. And this one is happening in winter in Heidelberg, at least in my mind. But don’t think that, at least in my mind, these scenes are so far apart temporally or spatially as summer in New York and winter in Heidelberg are.]
B: These trees are forever. These trees are mountain ranges wrapped-around tubes running to the sky, branching infinitely, sprouting double-cello light green leaves all along the way.
A: These trees are a story rising up and beyond this soft and leaning and timidly worn winter-damp and yellow-tinged grass.
B: A moment outside of time is all the lovers seek; it is why they sought love.
A: Problems close and far; houses of cards shaking in the drafty kitchen upon that old checkered table top.
B: What color?
A: A faded yellow and white. Hard vinyl plastic. Some kind of 1950s idea of modernity, with a rigid ridged steel band around the tabletop side.
B: Why do humans age? Why do they have life cycles like fruitflies?
A: Why do they get to stretch out their life cycles, bending into and exulting in each little wrinkle? Why are humans given so much time?
B: What should we do now
B: You know
A: Now that we’ve found each other?
B: You know.
B: What should we do?
A: I don’t know.
A: I’m scared. Like I’ve found a treasure and now I could lose a treasure.
B: Me too.
A: Maybe we’re
A: I mean
B: You mean, maybe we’re too hasty here
B: Could be
A: At least we’re scared.
A: So we’re not approaching this flippantly
B: Not at all