I haven’t seen Lizzy since she was limping across the lawn. And that was two months ago. I wonder what happened to her? I wonder if she quit school, or graduated, or if she was only a tourist who was on campus for a week, and then went home? I suppose she’s out there somewhere. I wonder what she’s doing right now? I wonder if her hoof has healed? It’s hard enough to limp around when the weather is nice, but it’s worse in the snow. I wonder if she’s alone, or with someone special? Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy… and her hoof has healed.
I suppose many people have sat and wondered, over the years, about a loved one who was not there. A father, mother, son, daughter, husband, or wife. I suppose they woke up every morning and went to bed every night with a hole in their heart. With an empty space they carried around, pressing through the day with only half of themselves still there. I suppose that’s the most common way to go through life.
It’s warmer today, said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso. You don’t look very good, said Harlan, what have you been doing? I’ve been painting, said Blurtso. Painting? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, I saw Lizzy again, and I think she should be immortalized like the models of Renoir.
I call it, “Jeune âne au piano.”