Sunday, October 10, 2010

At the park, mothers brush the hair of future emporers. They sleep with their head in their mother's laps. The mothers are careful not to interrupt the dreamy gaze of the young heirs. They cultivate the relaxed brows and the slow breathing of the toddlers with their touch.

She dangles an inflatable doll made in the likeness of her son when a frightening thought enters her mind: what if her daughter is too secure in her reign over the toys in her brother's absence? The boy suddenly becomes tired of the inflatable doll and punches it in its silly face so hard it tears off the stick. He lays his head back down, not even impressed with himself.

She insists they will be late for lunch but he dismisses the notion with a shake of his head. She entices him with ice cream. She's glad she didn't have to demean him by using her stern voice. They are replaced on the bench by a young Indian couple arguing. Back at home, the interim husband-king sleeps his last years as reigning champion of the world away.