Two or so years ago, a stranger gave me a ring.

It was nighttime and I was under a streetlamp painting the holy rubble piled up from construction. Providence at that time was replacing the lead-ridden pipes. There were orange traffic cones circling the rocks in worship. It was silent for a long time. Painting felt like praying.

Then the stranger came walking down the hill. And as he reached the sidewalk across the street from where I was sitting, he started to talk. He started to talk to me.

He used long, scientific words, in an order that, to me, made no sense. I had little clue what he was talking about, but I did enjoy his company. And gradually I found myself leveling up, responding aloud to his nonsensical sensical logic.

Nothing I said had to make any sense right off the bat, I’d just let myself figure it out along the way. Somehow I never got lost. And somehow I never lost him. He told me about his Russian spy of a father. I told him about my genius pet hen. He told me he’s sailed across the Atlantic without knowing how to swim. I told him how I used to wear my swimsuit under my clothes in case I came across a yard with the sprinklers on. He told me he was an actor, I told him I loved his performance in the latest feature film.

It felt good to talk in this way; often contradictory, but never repetitive. Lies that felt true. I only call him a stranger because he never referred to himself by the same name twice. I decided to do the same that night. It felt good to be multiple.

The best part is when we laughed really hard. I have no idea about what but I do know it was real. I felt the laughter of a full crowd inside me.

He crossed the street only one time and it was to give me the ring. The moment he dropped it in my palm he crossed back to his side of the street and we continued conversation for another hour.

There was only one moment of silence in our entire conversation of ludicrosities. When it happened, he decided to take it as an opportunity. Our exchange had come to an end. He nodded to me with his hand up next to his shoulder, then continued on his way.

The ring is pink and heavy, all made from stone. Smooth all around except for the top, which is rough. It reminds me of a geode. Or a cat’s tongue. It’s a bit too tight to wear around my finger for long, so I keep it in my palm mostly. I often find the cat licking my thumb.