a head.
I passed a ceramic bust sitting on top of a stone wall. A red cardigan flung over the face. I took her to the park and placed her looking out at the view. Change of scenery. I thought. Wondering how long she had been locked in a box. Her head baked in the sun. So did my own.
A man asked if there was another way down. I pointed to a dirt track. He asked if I was sure, I said he could not miss it. He paid me with a wave and took my direction. Though, he never told me what he was looking for.
I looked up to ask him, so I knew for later, but he had stomped on to find whatever it was. Probably closer than I am. I said, stretching my arms to the sky, begging the clouds to pull me up. They floated away. Thoughtless, I said to the head. I dropped them in defeat.
We stared out onto the boles of trees. Not saying much between us. A cloud turned white, to orange, to a deep purple that brought a chill. A breeze lifted strands of my hair that tickled the back of my neck. God I love that, I said to the piece of pot beside me. Eyes fixed on what was in front, she replied, Me too.
We chatted back and forth. She was full of bumpy knowledge about quite lumpy subjects. Eventually, she asked why I had moved her. I thought you might enjoy a change of scenery, I explained. She did not nod with her head, but she did make the sound your head would make if it nodded. I did what she could not, and lifted my head up and down. I considered which our heads was heavier, though I thought it rude to ask. Yours. She answered.
We watched as sparrows quarreled above us. Why did you let me? I sparked, tipping my head down to see hers. She lifted the tiny nubs of ceramic where her shoulders might have been. Had she been someone she was not, and shrugged. I thought you might too.
I filled the hollow of her skull with my sad stories. How overwhelming it is to have all these thoughts. Lilting over tales about each one pressuring against my brain, knowing at some point it will burst open with worms. Know your audience. She warned. Eyes still fixed on what was ahead, I could not see her expression, but there was warmth in her tone.
What did you expect? She continued. Whispering jokes on the breeze. I laughed into the valley and birds flung themselves from the trees. Patting my friend on her bald head, the slap felt satisfying against my palm. Sound advice, I thanked her.
Grateful that I had feet to stand on, I did just that. Pressed my hands into the small of my back and pushed my check forward, looking out onto the tops of trees. We both breathed in. Right, I sucked. How do I get down? I exhaled, happy in the small victory, at least, of acknowledging a little bump of knowledge. That I had come to a head.