The problem is we are islands. The silence is hostile. Even the smoke signals get lost.
It takes someone else to suggest a bridge. One that might meet in the middle.
Ask him to join you on the bridge, she suggests. Look at each other, she reminds us.
My island has a stormy coastline. His, impenetrable cliffs.
Join me on the bridge, I ask him.
Okay, but what do we have to build it with? How far will each of us come? Building isn’t your strong point.
Join me on the bridge, he asks me.
I would, if I could see in the dark.