Paris, 3 de April de 1973
I was thinking of you now; a fleeting thought, so I decided to take a fresh, clean sheet of white paper, a mechanical pencil and make that feeling last.
The memory that brought you back to me was of you tossing bread crumbs to the ducks; of your anxiety: “ what if they come here? All at once!!” and you looked at me, and I thought that to be hilarious.
I’m sure that it was not your thought but I felt as if you were checking to see if I would protect you from a bunch of hungry ducks. Marie, I would certainly run and hope you had the wits to follow me, and the common sense to leave the bread crumbs behind. I am pretty sure we can not outrun a bunch of flying ducks. But you threw your bread crumbs, and they didn’t give a “ duck” about it. Kids these days!
Your face looking at the ducks, at the bread crumbs, back and forth between them and the bread crumbs. Our synchronized laughter to a moment in time. Our joy of being.
