On an empty path with fallen leaves, crumpled grass, beneath a canopy of trees, lies a little girl with eyes shut tight and all four limbs outstretched. “I’m floating down a river, the great river that opens to the ocean.” she whispered to herself.
“Excuse me”, said a little boy, a little boy she didn’t know had been watching her for close to a minute, and a minute is a long time for a little boy. “You might have forgotten but you’re on grass. You’re not floating on a river. And our river, it doesn’t open to the ocean. It opens to more river and a hundred other rivers before it opens to the ocean.”
“Can’t you see I’m imagining?”
“I didn’t know girls knew how to imagine.”
“Of course we do! We can do everything you can – and better!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest that you weren’t as good as…”
“What were you suggesting?”
“Nothing. I wasn’t suggesting anything. I…”
“Then mind your own business!”
“Ok ok… Take it easy. I’m going. I’m going.”
“Girls are crazy.” he told himself. “I was only trying to help. How was I to know they also imagined?”
Naïve as little boys are sometimes, he didn’t realize that little girls do. Do imagine, I mean. And even as he turned his way, this little girl’s mind was already forming, the images, sensations, and a matrimonial storyline.
“He loves me. I’m sure of it. And I love him too!”