Happy to sit on kids day

The sounds of France. Chilly water sprinkling the top of our forehead, and the whistling of an accordion. The clicking of a bike tire being walked through a busy park. The whispers of scuffling feet on warm sidewalk. The bike tire’s clicking fades off and sounds of water are orchestrated to get louder. In Japan, a popular stringed instrument clucked by the hand of an old group of men, taking turns. Those men have counter-parts in the United States still chasing hair-metal dreams that went away for everyone else thirty years ago. This park is like a dream, it's the one that keeps on being recreated in movies, bumped up and up from below and kept above water. Then, what’s under water? Sea creatures. And what’s above? Swan boats with two people driving from the inside, clumsy like giant plastic children breaking up the small schools of living ducks whose home is the park. Then what of the dream? Is it still floating? Yes, of course, it isn’t like other dreams. This one is for real. Does that make it last? No. It’s just a coincidence, maybe. But this dream was chosen by everyone without anyone choosing. Which is it again? I can’t see it. You aren’t seeing it? It’s the one with the balloons and the music. In the mall? No, but there are clowns too. But it isn’t anything like the mall; there’s no water or breeze in a mall. That’s not true, what of fountains? And air conditioning? They aren’t real. And the dream is? Yes. Something you can feel is real? Not always. Are you real? Yes. Am I? I’m not sure if you are or if you aren’t. Because I’m me, and that’s all I know. How do you know? I control my limbs, I experience my thoughts, I get angry, I get sad. Is that the same as the dream? ??... You can feel it and so it is real? Yes. I see. Are you hungry yet? No. That bag is heavy isn’t it, I’m sorry that I asked you to carry it, I brought it after all. It’s ok, my arms don't hurt.

The girl walking by the man on the phone in the park, ‘It’s like a scarf.’ The man in the park, ‘it’s like a scarf’ into his phone.

Three types of boats on the lake, the swan, which you know of already, for certain, do you remember? Yes. The other two, well you can see for yourself. No. Ok, one was made in the same factory as the swan boat, but there was no head put on it, and painted yellow. Same mechanics, people kick from the inside, steer with a wheel. … The other is a plain rowboat, like the one your dad took you on when you were 8, remember you told me that story? Yeah. Could you tell it again? I don’t remember what day it was, or what the weather was like. We woke up so- early, it may have been the earliest I had ever waken up in my life except for at Easter mass and except for Christmas when still I cant sleep. It was 3:30 and dad woke me and my brother up, I remember the tackle boxes, then I remember the wetness, then my mind jumps to when we’re in the boat, and the sky is hardly awake, pale grey and purple, we found a half sunken barn in the lake with its door spreading open halfway above the water, but the top was low and so we had to duck our heads to get in. when we got in. the window of the barn from the inside made outside look bright. There were spiders on the walls, all sorts of bugs that I didn't, couldn't see, it was so exciting. Did you catch anything in there? No, I don’t think so. I don't remember fishing in there, I remember just going in, and being excited and afraid.

I should know better than to bring you out with me! Unbelievable! What? What do you me-an what! You know what! I didn’t see anything! Why don’t you open your eyes! You idiot! You could have destroyed something just then! You don’t spill over a carriage and then give excuses! Thank god there was nothing in there! Well, there wasn't anything in there, so don't be so angry. But you don’t understand! Aren’t you shocked at yourself? No, it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t born myself into this type of place.
The man on the harmonica has the precision of an accordion player and I’ve never seen someone play like him before. Look! No. If you keep your eyes closed you’ll lose your sight! I hope I do. Oh you do? Well why don’t I just take care of that, you should have asked, lucky for you I’ve kept my fingernails long enough to reach the back. No! Don’t! Open your eyes or I’ll do it… Fine… No! Okay. Okay, okay!

Lucy’s eyelashes flickered with a florescent start and then raised. Her yellow eyes made as though she saw nothing, visibly upset at being threatened and at herself for having done what Honey Bunny asked. ‘Honey Bunny, how old are you?’ ‘Why?’ ‘You’ve been around since last February, when we met at the restaurant, and so you must be at least that old, but come on, where were you born?’ ‘I don’t want to tell you because I don’t want you to get upset.’ ‘Why would I get upset? I’m upset now!’ Lucy picked up Honey Bunny’s bag and pulled out some papers, then in silence began swallowing up the words written from top to bottom with her lion eyes. ‘That’s nothing. Just receipt stuff from tickets to a show I bought yesterday. Miss Hungry Jeneeva sang at the Core Stone’ ‘Who? Where?’ ‘The Core Stone, you remember don’t you? The big, big oval building, like an egg on its bottom, balanced in the middle of a little town with so few buildings that its all you see of the town for a long time on your way there from any direction. The town is called Jillian.’ ‘Remember?’ ‘Of course, I’m telling you to remember.’ ‘Remember… I do remember.’ ‘Of course you do.’