Saturday, 5 September 2009
By The Time It Gets Dark All This Will Be Gone
He rolls pebbles under his hand so that they clink against each other in the dirt. In this light, I can only see the movement, not the details. The line of his arm draws my eye to the ground. He tells me something just crawled over his foot and I scream and he laughs and says, Just Ambiguity. And I know it’s a word and he’s trying to be clever, but all I can think about is how many legs an Ambiguity might have.