Running came easy to Eric; he seemed to be most comfortable
when running. No reason but the running itself, no drive
whatsoever. He could stop any time now, suddenly, without a
spark of an emotion giving his intentions away. He could
speed-up instead, running faster and faster until his breath
would constrict his chest and paces, slowing him inevitably
down, down. He could continue running forever. He had total,
unblemished control.

Being beautiful came easy to Kim; she seemed to be best
equipped for beauty and it was so natural to her. Being
pretty was hard work; being beautiful all but impossible if
you lacked the talent. Most girls her age would start their
day by being good-looking and slowly would work-up the
escalator of splendor until a certain beauty level would be
reached. But Kim had an unwavering simplicity about her, a
glow of loveliness that could not be disguised with anything
of this world, or altered otherwise.

There was a word, and it was the first word any of them had
ever heard.
''Hello!'' Kim said to him, and it was strawberries.
''Hello,'' he replied making it official, a sound truth.
She smiled and went her way. Her trolley was filled with
groceries he could never have sold. She had Van Gogh, Mahler
and Salinger. She had a pair of woolen baby socks and a
piece of chocolate. She had a bundle of laughs and a bouquet
of forget-me-nots tied up with a hair of a unicorn.  The
strawberries remained strawberries for the moment being, as
she walked away from his vegetable stall.

He could not have run more that day; she couldn't have been
more magnificent. Life was simple, the afternoon calm, and
the dreams were waiting for the dreamer. Eric washed his
hands after a light dinner of magical beans that could never
let him into the clouds. He washed his hands thoroughly and
with an intensity that you only wash away sins with. It felt
right, holding onto the soap and wishing, willing it to
become something else, a butterfly or a joke. It was easy,
and the stark flew away where the towel had recently been,
but it got away before he could've named it. He wanted
everything to have a name.
He wanted Kim to have as many as there were, but none would
stick with her longer than a smile, even if he chiseled it
with his own hands.
Kim already had a name and she reveled in it, in front of
the mirror. Her name was doing her hair, and she thought
about a way of laughing in her sleep. She was tired, but it
was reasonable after being so beautiful for so long a day.
It was fair. She soon remembered that there was a party
somewhere, and if she couldn't be there she could never
again be pretty. It was like that. She closed her eyes for a
moment wishing it to rain, but it couldn't rain for her, not
the way it rained for him. For her it was a sunny drizzle
but he could make it pour. He could truly make songs come to
life.
Kim opened her eyes and it was a sunrise. Every time, she
thought.

It was heaven and hell, but they weren't sure which was
which. He could never be beautiful and she could never be
controlled. They were Romeo and Juliet of a world with no
struggle and thus without passion. They were Adam and Eve,
and they were not in love because they haven't made a name
for it.
Nor would they ever make.