The Purpose of the Llama.

Reading Jonathan Malesic is like a random encounter with a llama, somewhere in the animal’s natural habitat. 

The meeting is accidental. Maybe there was a mist. Maybe you took the wrong turn. Circumstances notwithstanding,  your face is now level with its face. The llama’s eyes are fixed on you, unmoving, their eyelids heavy. The likeness definitely camelid, with the long snout and flat nose. The jaws move, the llama chews. 

You look at the llama. The llama looks at you, unblinking. It chews. 

And chews. 

And chews some more. 

Unfazed by your presence, it moves its jaw with efficacy of millions of years of evolution. It doesn’t do much of anything else. 

Stands there. 

Chews. 

Chews some more. 

There is an obviousness to it. A proclamation, even. Taking of a stand, definitely. 

It looks at you. It chews. 

You do not understand. What is this? Why is this? Why this presence, why now? What does it mean?

Yet, you find yourself utterly transfixed. 

Then someone taps you on the shoulder. You come to, startled, turn around and see a smiling face. The armful of something is pushed into your arms, where else, and you have no other option but to hold it. So you do. 

It is the armful of most delightful, soft and squishy fleece you have ever touched. It smells softly of llama. 

The llama stands there, looks at you, its gaze as impenetrable now as five minutes ago. It chews. 

You leave the scene stunned, with the fleece that is now your own, and as you are about to claim victory, to have understood the purpose of the llama, you look over your shoulder. 

It stands there. It chews. It looks at you. 

And then, it blinks. 

22/5/25