I was walking on the sandy road to nowhere when you have found me.

Your windy eyes recognised me. I was living inside your head for some time, in a tiny trailer, underneath the stars. My bed was filled with soft pillows and hard copy books. Every night you were dedicating a new song at the radio to me, every night I was cooking rice. We made love 53 times before we met and we even talked about God, while chopping some parsley.

You said: Hey, little tiger, step in, so I entered your white, muddy car and asked you where are we going. Somewhere, you said. In the rearview I could see my backpack moving away from us, shadowing the wayside.

Our first stop was near a river. I was dying for some pizza and some white, chilled wine, but you wanted to show me something. You took your boots off, turned up your trousers, made me do the same and led me by the hand in the middle of the icy water. It felt like my feet were cut from below the surface and I was floating above. We stand there with our hands stretched sideways and our eyes closed, on the rounded, slippery stones, trying to keep our balance, resisting the temptation to lean on the back and leave ourselves at the will of stream. In my mind the image of the pepperoni pizza was slowly replaced by the thought that we are immortals.

Yesterday you told me your name. I usually cannot recall people names, after we make acquaintance, but I did yours.

If you could do anything, what would you do? You asked me. I would turn into a golden fish, I replied. You would be a seahorse and I would ride you across the ocean. We would make a house in a coral reef and eat seagrass salad with chopsticks. What would you do? I’d marry you.

Today you said: Tiger, let’s move on. We once again entered your car, which was dazzling like Antarctica in January this time. It smelled like fresh bed sheets and chamomile.

Shut your mouth, baby stand and deliver

Holy hands, oh they make me a sinner

Like a river, like a river

Shut your mouth and run me like a river

was playing at the radio.

On the back seat I had a new backpack filled with pineapples and ham.

Somewhere City, ahead.

I usually start Waze when I am a copilot, but not knowing where you go makes it much easier to reach your destination.

You have something on your nose, I joked.