The silver water is sending shiny sparks all around, glazing the trees and the grass and the morning runners. We’re silent. No words. I am stretching my tentacles, feeling the air between us, to check whether it’s vertical or horizontal and what temperature it has. My calves are sending signals and I ignore them. I’m bathing in the silence. Finally. No agitation. My solar plexus is quiet at last. Sometimes it whispers. Careful there, it says. Careful with this force you’re handling. The more I’m sweating, the happier I am. Has this city ever been so beautiful before?