boxterjulep

Often times in winter I'd find myself in a field littered with the stumps of corn stalks sticking out of the snow. They were like faded gold daggers that you didn't want to trip and get yourself impaled on. Walk steady, walk carefully. Out there the only living thing I'd see might be an occasional red fox off to hunt for the rabbits now turned white. Camouflage. I might see them too if i was lucky. It didn't really matter since I was more preoccupied talking to you.
Yes, I'd find you there. I loved our silly serious conversations of battles we had won and lost. You'd joke about how we'd be in such deep trouble when we finally caught up to our party or platoon or battalion. Whichever it might be. It was always just the two of us. The two of us, and maybe the Fool to follow along if I thought we should have him around to add his jokes full of little truths that we'd laugh about when our own conversations were at a minimum. Just the sound of our boots in the snow, a steady crunch shuffle as we marched along. You and I could share silence well together. We'd reach the end of the field and find a smooth snowy embankment to lay on. I"d close my eyes and let snowflakes melt on my eyelids. They'd either melt and trickle down the side of my face or pool up in the corner. I'd let it stay. See how much I could collect. What would you be doing? The same. I knew you were there even when all I could see was air. There was no doubt in my mind you were real. I'm glad that you are.

Remember when we were only imaginary friends?