Talking and Short

Today, the young boy and I started when it was early but bright. The air had a shimmering quality about it; as if from light behind a waterfall.

It felt icy cold when we began but perhaps it was the enthusiastic conversation or simply warming up, we settled into a good rhythm. We spoke about his football match and what it meant for him to play with or against his cousin brothers.

When we finished, he put his arm around me and said, good run.

It always is, with him.