I suppose I am a temporary thing, thought Blurtso. The day will come when I am gone and forgotten. As if I never existed. As before I existed. In the meanwhile I’m here, standing between two oblivions, pausing to enjoy a snack, and sending a mouthful of grass… to its next oblivion.
“Sights” – Fly in web. Struggling. Spider waiting.
Hey… what’s this?
You mean… there were Blurtsos before me?
The stone is clean now, and polished in the sun. And there is no sign of blood. But how many donkeys labored away their lives, hoof after hoof after hoof, to build this place?
“It is early”
Of course, it is early.
You will hear other voices
sing other songs.
You will choose one.
You will come to know
the depth of the shadows
in the grasses.
You will see friends
grow and wither,
and dreams and sorrows
slip away.
Will you forget these songs?
Will they vanish in the beauty
with which they cannot compete,
the white mountain, the red rose,
the resolute eyes of a lover?
Or will they remain,
and remind you of the glow
your eyes had once,
and the magic they inspired
in the heart of another?
What are those? said Alex. They are papers for my English class. Your English class? said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, the teacher showed us a book called, “Romans éclairs,” by Bernard Teyssèdre. It contains a series of one-paragraph novels. One-paragraph novels? said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, “roman” means “novel,” and “éclair” means “lightining,” therefore “lightning novel.” Would you like to hear my first one? I’d love to, said Alex.
“She looked at him because he was looking, and he looked back. Then she spoke when he wasn’t speaking, and he spoke back, and they both listened. Time stood still while it passed, and no one saw what they were seeing when he spoke and she spoke and they both listened. And no one heard what they were hearing when they were both hearing.”
