We took a long walk one gloomy September afternoon and we became lost. We ambled through a vast garden of wasted cardboard boxes A land of grays and brown hues. Various shapes and sizes of corrugated board flooded our sights and all that could be seen for miles were these small shanties of solitude. The sky was clouded over. A thick haze that seemed to blend in with the surroundings was all that one could observe above and beyond. Why we were here, you and I, was a mystery for it all seemed so unreal. Not another human around in this desolate garden of human refuse but ourselves.
The more we ambulated, the further we were from somewhere. For we moved on legs of string-cheese; wobbly at the knees. Left and right were non-different from forward and backwards and no matter in what direction we turned, we saw the same dreary scene. But we had each other and this was enough to cut through our stark decrepitude. Yet we were all alone. Together but alone, and a cold wind scrapped us to the bone.
I tried to speak but my mouth was sewed tightly shut so my silent screams only resonated within my skull. Yet you could understand my apparent distress. You gently squeezed my hand with a warmth to counteract the biting cold that I felt. We were in the damnedest of dreams but if not for you, my sweet friend, I would find myself in not a dream but a nightmare.
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