first, there were only two people sitting on a tree. one was looking at Japan and the other at a star. and at first, they said, hey, this will work. let us put our heads together and try to find a way to get out of this tree. they have never learned equations, having spent so much time where they were, so they couldn't make a graph. they never learned how to make ropes, or sharpen pieces of wood, or dance, or skip, hop, nor jump, or make wine out of water, nor fashion everyday miracles out of air. and all the while, the other thought, i am the only one trying to find a way out of this, and the other, separate from her, thought that it would be good to get a boat because it was summer and it would be nice to go someplace far away when they got down from this tree.
and that boat came between them because the other, who was separate from her, kept thinking about it while munching on leaves, swishing his legs to and fro, then sideways. and the boat became larger and assumed a yellow tint. it loomed so large in her dreams at night that she herself turned yellow for three days.
after some time, she said, i am giving up. maybe i am tired of this. we're looking at different things, anyway. and the other said, well maybe it's time for us to sing something else together. but, said the other, we have never learned how. it was always just you by yourself or me alone, but never together and now its too late because our individual notes are too different and separate. so if we ask a passerby, please sir, have you seen our tune around? he'd say no. i am betting my right foot on it, she who was also now separate from him said. and the other, mustering the last lie, whispered, well i've always known that.
and they continued with what they were doing from the beginning, with one looking at Japan, and the other, at a star. i'm sure that when i first began the story, you thought you knew precisely how it would end -- with a kiss and a life. but really, that just goes to show how unreliable beginnings are.
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