There was a wolf at the door. His eyes were skillful, with the power to ease and yet abiding to the laws of evil. His ears married to the sound of judgment, marked by the early word that said nothing in particular. His teeth argued among themselves, never in agreement and seldom saw the light of honesty. Announcing their arrival with a howl. The howl was of a certain frequency that leaves you wanting. Then a feeble growl, faint to the touch and I did not dare touch it. The heat of his breath at my feet, isolating my toes from one another. It slowly rises up to the tip of my mouth, tasting the bending of the summit. There are no birds here.
‘’ I’ve come for the gift? ’Growled the wolf.
In my recollection there was no gift. There was nothing tangible from the vantage point of where I had been in the country of my heart. Where houses are built from the lumbering of crude glimpses.
‘’Are you...