it has snowed overnight, and i stand on my balcony gazing at the white blanket draped over all. in the park across the street, the deceivingly soft, fluffy snow has packed hard as granite on the ground, and a bird plummets expectantly into the seemingly forgiving mass, only to be almost knocked unconscious. it flutters feebly, eyes crossed in a cartoon-like manner before dazedly rising into the air, swerving this way and that.
the park is bigger than before, and two penguins cavort lovingly. one a sleek adult male, the other smaller with baby-down fluffing its coat. they skid playfully on the ice, their jocular voices piercing the cold in a skrieking cacophony. making me wish i had my dictaphone cos they would be good to sample and loop.
i am now a penguin too, though overly large. i swoop over the street, cackling at the little penguins down below. they look up bemused as i skim their heads with my little penguin feet. so nice to be black and white.
copyright 1994 lisa bode