hjartað

Just a few days ago I stepped over what I am certain was a heart. It looked to have been on the pavement since at least the night before, and most of it was gray and torn, though a few pinkish bits were still evident. I knew that it was not simply meat because the valves and great vessels were clearly visible, white and gristly. It lay in a driveway and looked to have been run over several times already. Perhaps it had been thrown in the trash, and some enterprising animal had pulled it out and carried it some little distance before being startled into giving up its prize. In any case, it was now prey chiefly to cars. As I passed I found myself thinking that it was too soon after Valentine's Day to be seeing such things left on the pavement.