Two gazing strangers sit on a bench before the finite horizon. The stranger on the left gazes through the cracks of the pier and wonders how unfeasible it is to build on water; the other is perturbed by the absence of creaking from the stapled planks. A tension arises on the strangers adrift on the peninsular; between one stranger nonplussed at peace, and the other forbearing of the buckling of the half-bridge of the pier.

“They let their dogs run off their leashes here”

“Because of trust, or obedience?”

“There’s often scant and seldom difference”

“I think it’s because of the boundary-”

“-between trust and -?”

“No. Between the mountains and the civilized swarm; the dog’s nature and its captor’s”

“The same sea lapping against the mountains and the skyscraper: you think that is the cause.”

Of the comport?”

“Why they’re off their leashes on the parks and street; near the roads and the curbs.”

“Their leash isn’t the reason for complicity?”

“It isn’t their leash. And the leash doesn’t exist.”

They fell into silence. A crow set on the pier and squawked rhythmically and dramatically. It flapped its wings and soared to greet the echo of its call.



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