Off I go, said Blurtso, following my shadow. Off I go, following my flat friend, painting and unpainting the prairie, darkening each step I take. Off I go, farther and farther, stretching to a place… where darkness… meets darkness.
The road was dark and the trees were tall and the wind was still. Blurtso walked quickly, keeping to the edge of the road where the grass muffled the clippety clop of his hooves. The moon in the trees threw shards of light on the ground and Blurtso could hear himself breathe. I must try to breathe more quietly, he thought, I must move swiftly without haste. At the edge of the road the branch of a tree occasionally grazed his flank. The wind began to rise and the jagged shadows moved on the ground. The wind will mask the sound of my breath, thought Blurtso, moving swiftly without haste. The sound of the wind and the shadows of the trees are good friends, he thought, good friends indeed…
Yes, that’s how it is, thought Blurtso, walking a mile in his hooves. That’s how it is and I know that’s how it is, he said, walking, the only way he could walk, in his hooves. I might pretend to know your hooves and you mine, one hoof after another, after all, until we fall, you in yours and me in mine.
Do you have any Kings? asked Blurtso. Go fish, said Pablo. Do you have any Tens? asked Pablo. Go fish, said Blurtso. Do you have any Threes? asked Blurtso. Go fish, said Pablo. Do you have any Twos? asked Pablo. Go fish, said Blurtso. Do you have any pumpkin pies? asked Blurtso. Yes, said Pablo, I have three, in the fridge behind the watermelons.