Two forests and a river appeared at the foot of the stairs of the flats where she lived.
‘You are not normal,’ you tell me
‘I am normal’ I reply, thinking: I am not normal
I have stumbled through life vaguely, in parallel to normality and to conventional rules, never quite rebelling in an interesting life-defining way.
“How is your garden?”
You ask,
Munching your crostini
Green: the trees are tall and offer me welcome shade on days like today, I reply