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I was chewy mousse royale
in a vanilla cone.
He was tiger tail
In a waffle house.
with a glass of cream
he sipped through a stir stick
Before each black sip.

The Hallway was almost empty.
We sat by the front
window in wet raincoats
with full smiles that squinted sparkly eyes shut.


“What will you ask them if they’re real?” I asked.
“Hmm? If what’s real?”

He shines so bright it’s like the room was brightly lit
What room?
All I saw was a halo of curls.

“The Huldufolk. The Hidden People in the lava rocks of Iceland
I’ve been telling you about. What would you ask them?”

His face went unsmiling and tender.
First a sip through the stir stick. Then to the black coffee.

“Well, assuming they speak my language, or we have a translator;

I would like to know first if they

need anything?”

“Like technology or food?” I asked.

“I imagine anything we have to offer them
of value may not be valuable to them.

I was thinking more along the lines of protection
or actions than resources or tangible gifts.

Perhaps I’m wrong
and their aesthetic desires a tiny designed modern home
with clean lines, heated floors
and an in-law suite.
It’s such a privilege to ask anything at all

it makesme ponder my intentions.

Where is my ego?

How can I centre this around the Hidden People
and not me
with my burning curiosities aching
to be learned.”

We both paused with his compassion hanging in the air.

The Hallway started buzzing with high school
students on break. I ccould see our server taking
sips from a mug behind the counter and wincing
as she swallowed.
Her eyes danced between the
gaggle of youth and the clock.

I liked when it went silent between us for a moment.
When there are no words
The electricity, palpable
Our eyes risked burning The Hallway right down.
“Okay, I’ve got one” I said.
His black coffee and cream sips were getting bigger and deeper
as it cooled.
“What are their observations of a bunch of giant,
clumsy oafish disasters tearing through their
planet like it’s disposable and being quite
gross about it tromping around?”

Our laughter filled The Hallway.

“Yes! And what can they tell me of the moon!?
What do they think of us and astrology!
Like, are they all Scorpio’s or are we
talking Libra vibes?”

(I wonder if they’ll think I’m a fussy brat
or if they would see through my
inability to speak for what I desire.)

“ I suppose I’d like to know what turns
them on. Is there Huldufolk porn? Do
They masturbate? Is anything Taboo?”


we both blushed and didn't look away

“Of course they masturbate.”

“Maybe I’d like to know if they’ve procreated and made
human hybrids”

"I always thought I was missing wings.
I can feel electricity buzzing. It hurts and scrambles my senses.
Dancing intoxicates me and the people I dance with can
lose their awareness
Melodies stick like glue
Flowers look wonderlands I could crawl into
I can see when people are carrying a baby before they know
I can tell sometimes when it won’t survive

I think it’s very white of me to hear of something brilliant
and foreign and want to co-opt it for myself.
I doubt any Huldufolk are running around asking
“"Am I part human? I am filled with equal parts
Apathy, Audacity and Anger"”

The Hallway was empty again.
Our server still winced with her mug.
She either hated her own coffee or there
was no coffee.
He asked me:
“why did you say “”, four”” earlier when
I asked if you had siblings?”
I briefly told him about my Dad leaving me and all
his previous families.

He genuinely asked: “how was that for you?”

“It upset me, I’m told. My memories from a young age are of
Feeling grateful that my Dad knew his boundaries and wasn’t
around me if he didn’t want to be. He was a chef and a drummer.
Every time I cook or hit the beat of a rhythm, I thank him”

Eye contact is so dangerous. These sparks.

“Speaking of rhythm” he said
“I think we have really good rhythm”

I blushed so hard I folded in half, nodding
He continued:
“ I want to take this opportunity to tell you that I’m interested in you
romantically and ask if you might want to share a kiss with me”

I would have folded into quarters if I could
I slid my chair around our round table
from 5 to 4 , him seated at 3 without haste and

“that felt really good” I said

He put a handful of hot fries in my mouth.
Muffled through chewing “oh god, these are so salty and greasy”

“you’re gonna love my balls then”

He read me for shock while I swallowed and found a steady wry grin and
those same lazer beam squints.

this confirms my taste for grease and salt.

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