And all of these things might have significance if the writer could just give them some. The assembling of the day into metaphor. First clarity. Clarity is key. Blah, blah. Blah, blah. Blam. Blam. Thank you ma’am. Bam. Boo.
“Stop.”
“I’m playing.”
“You’re thinking too hard.”
“We were talking about clarity, right?”
“Right. It starts with the desktop. Everybody knows that.”
“Hold on. Shut the fuck up!”
She bangs on the ceiling with a broomstick.
“Vulgarity won’t get you anywhere.”
“But I can’t focus.”
“Ever thought of making nice?”
“Whatever.”
At this rate she will achieve nothing by the time she is thirty. The screwball family drama with the touch of magic realism. Not even.
“Screwball family drama? That’s good. Twisted.”
“I like twisted.”
“Sordid even.”
“Sordid? Really?”
“Sometimes you have to say it like it is.”
“Who are you?”
“Who are YOU?”
“Languid. Listless. Lonely. Can I confess something to you?”
“If you must.”
“My worst nightmare. Being trapped in a room with a handful of published authors.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t seem so bad really.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Have you ever thought of sleeping?”
One Comment
Ha!! I totally understand!!
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