Le loup dont la queue est poussée par le vent

It’s an old story

Very old

Very very old

She started before us

Long before

But not before all things

There is always a before

But not always an after

Even if it was after

After the disaster

The flood

The end of time

Everything had been swept away

The sky

The earth

Its inhabitants

Except two

They were two

They had no name

No parents

No sex

No age

All they knew was that they were alone

On a vacant lot

Flat to the horizon

Full of pebbles

Greasy paper

Corrugated iron

Without doing anything

Otherwise count the pebbles

And contemplate the horizon

They were so bored

So so much

That they invented games

All kinds of games

Hands

Feet

Mouths

Pebbles

Dust

Attracted by their games, others joined them

They weren’t alone of course

No one is ever alone

The games became more complex, refined, difficult

Teams were formed

Championships were organized

Referees were needed

And committees

And books to write down rules

Always longer

More numerous

More complicated

There were disagreements

Which became conflicts

Brawls

Wars

The two decided to leave

To disappear

To become seeds

Raindrops

Bird songs

Time flies

And later

Much later

After the disaster

The flood

The end of time

Everything has been swept away

The sky

The earth

Its inhabitants

Except two

They were two

But not the same two

Other two

They had several names

Lynx and Coyote

Walrus and caribou

Mouth and smile

Sun rising and sun setting

What we chew and what we rechew

The fox that eats and the fox that slides down

The wolf who is lying on his back and the wolf whose tail is blown by the wind

These two didn’t agree on anything

But they were like the two sides of the same coin

Or the two threads of the same figure

Or the two twins of the tale

Who we discover are not really twins

Because no one thing can be completely the same as another