Romania

The glory of the day carried things easily when the sun shone; but when the sun passed, things seemed abandoned, they became dissociated, and you had to find a way to take them up yourself.

--Bellow.

Are you messing with my mind?

Why, is that what you want?

The light entered the east window and briefly illuminated the whole room. Late afternoon and a crow up above. I thought of your name. Time settled, tea was poured, introductions were made. 

I set great store by words spoken. 

Why? Mine or yours?

Describe yourself in a few words, then.

I am the Tigris without a fish; a fish without the Tigris.

A bit melodramatic, even by your standards, don't you think?

How else can one answer a (drama) queen?

So, you finally recognize me as the queen?

No, a.

Was I ever really alive?

Why do you ask me, ghost? Has anyone ever told you, you ask too many questions.

I don't have time for your foolishness!

Then for what?

A barbarian at heart! 

Everyone needs their barbarians, Cav.

You know there's no end to this?

That's what I was hoping.

Can you be serious for a moment?

Yes, for a moment.

Why do you take everything literally?

But how else, then?

My mind can't take this any more!

And the rest of you?

You know, you're not funny any more. And there's not much left to say anyway. I wish you well, I do, but there are no bridges across these islands of the heart.  

{The characters in this story bear no resemblance to any person living or dead. Well, okay, maybe to someone who is dead}