Melted

by Leen Verheyen

That day, my friend turned out to be melted. I recognised him by his cap and sandals in the puddle in front of my door. I mopped him up as best I could and wrung him out into the buckets and pans I managed to gather in the house. Not knowing at what temperature the human body solidifies, I put him in the cellar. There, he regained his solid form, although he did not regain his human contours. But in the greater scheme of things, that was only a minor detail.