Strange Lives Of One

Terence and the emu-wren set off through the low vegetation.

Coral fern, soft twig rush, pithy sword-sedge.

How come there's only one of you? asks Terence.

How come there's only one of YOU? asks the emu-wren.

Because I'm me, says Terence.

Same here, says the emu-wren. Why are you asking?

Science, says Terence. Gaius and Kierkegaard came here to count you.

One, says the emu-wren. That's me.

But, says Terence, have you got friends here?

Yes, we sometimes have foraging parties, says the emu-wren.

With balloons? asks Terence.

No balloons, says the emu-wren. That would be stupid.

Why stupid? asks Terence.

We're foraging, says the emu-wren. That means looking for insects and spiders. You shouldn't alert them, with balloons.

No, says Terence. Not when you're foraging. What about after?

We go our own ways, says the emu-wren.

Terence thinks about that for a minute.

Have you ever floated away? asks Terence.

No, why? asks the emu-wren.

A parrot of mine didn't, but his brother did, says Terence. I just wondered.

Wondered what exactly? asks the emu-wren.

If you had, says Terence. He floated away and Saint Roley never saw him again. We think he followed a finger.

Like Gaius, following your arrow? asks the emu-wren.

No, says Terence. YES! Maybe we should go back to meet him.

He won't be floating, says the emu-wren. So there's no danger.

They move through the low vegetation in silence.

Thinking of the strange lives of others.

Meanwhile Gaius has discovered the arrow.......