An Attempt at Dialogue

A blue sky, streaked with broad swaths of aquamarine, as if a painter's watery brush had strayed, blending the spheres of sea and air. A pale gray dot floats within this cloudless sky, an improbable apparition. The dot is solidly defined, but distant, it hangs upon the skyline like an unasked question.

Features leap into distinction as I move closer, and my eyes dance over parapets, crenelations, sharp towers. I remember my life, remember my father, remember

"Parapets?"

"P-A-R-A-P-E-T-S" He speaks slowly, distinctly, the same way we speak on the phone.

"Uh..."” I stall, of course. I know he knows I'm stuck, now, but I didn't realize it all those years ago. "“It's like, something in a castle..."” That's what we were studying.

He doesn't smile, but his eyes are suddenly larger, and I feel small, like I'm about to watch an actor preform. His arms bow, index finger extend, and he's suddenly a monkey, hands raised, pointing at his underarms. He's started to laugh now, and I laugh too, watching him hop, feet slapping the carpet as he bounces.