Isn’t that an odd shape, thought Blurtso, staring at his reflection in the water. That nose, so round and ponderous, like a boxing glove, and that smug little smile, and those attentive, pin-point eyes. What a strange thing it is, that shape, my shape, staring at my shape, that shape. Boxing-glove nose, big and white, grey body, dark-grey hoofs, perked-up ears above attentive eyes. Tuft of hair atop his head. Atop my head. My head housing pin-point eyes looking at his head. Housing looking housing looking. Blurtso one and Blurtso two. Blurtso one and Blurtso too. Double Blurtso smiling smugly, me to me. What does he see when he looks into me? What does he think when he thinks of me? Does he think who on earth could he be? And what’s the heart of this mystery?