The Walk (pt. 1)

by DBLevin

The walk began and there were two men there. They were the ones walking. The conversation was held between them and they moved it back and forth to each other with their hands like a thick caterpillar. From far away it would look as if they were arguing or apologizing. They are walking down the path and you see them from behind. You feel a sort of love for them, but really for the scene; they’re a part of it and you love the men for walking and talking down the path, but you do not really love the men themselves. You can see yellow leaves in the dirt through the hollow peak of your book. You think about French churches and wonder if they too exist.

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