on Caroline weg

Squashed up, the space that held the face seemed too small. Everything shrunk. A tight pink mouth and narrow yellow nose, dark dots for nostrils held behind a veil of eczema. I gazed into the eyes from behind a window, repelled and enchanted, convinced he was of another planet. He looked not quite at me but through me, as if not seeing my body or noticing my stare. And then the boy next to him turned around and stepped forward to his brother’s side. The same, but smaller. Each with clipped yellow hair but somehow not the hair of a child. I stared longer, harder, and noticed the baldness of their skulls, the pink skin beneath.

Miniatures on the pavement. Alone and strange. Of this land but not entirely human. I can’t erase the image.