Light Boxes

Thaddeus

The Solution came to my window last night. They had on their bird masks and black top hats. They wore a single brown scarf around their necks. I said I understood the need to rebel and protect our town against February. I reminded them of the tactics used last year.

Most important, they said, think of your daughter, Bianca.

I saw that some snow had gathered in a corner on the ceiling. I grabbed a broom to sweep it away.

When I turned back around, the Solution was walking away into the snowfall. It looked like they were skipping.

I closed my eyes. I imagined Selah and Bianca in a canoe so narrow they had to lie down with their arms folded on their stomachs, their heads at opposite ends, their toes touching. I dreamed two miniature suns. I set one each upon their foreheads. I dreamed a waterfall and a calm lake of my arms below to catch them.