"All the Hues
That Fit, We Tint"

Siberia, USA: Today, global warming. Tonight, dark, unless you count the stars. Tomorrow can be reached via time machine. Yesterday, who can remember that far back?

Websafe Studio, blogging since 2003, featuring art, comics, digital whiteboards, virtual characters, Web design, writing

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

 

The Mirror: My mission, and my grief

Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: I am on the inside of the library, and on the outside of your mind.
W: You sound very "realistic" today.
M: I talk to myself, which means I don't have to move my lips.
W: You talk inside your head.
M: Of course it's true.
W: Everyone talks inside their heads.
M: Every room is made up of planes.
W: How many planes in a person's mind?
M: Let me in on the secret.
W: I didn't have an answer ready.
M: Could it be repeated?
W: I could repeat the setup.
M: Let me move into a new arena, where peace and happiness rule absolutely.
W: Sounds like pure mathematics, unless you are math-phobic.
M: I have no trouble in here with my vision.
W: You are very self-reliant, perhaps even a hermit.
M: That was Zeus, I believe.
W: Zeus was no hermit!
M: Samuel says, "Enough said."
W: Samuel agrees with me.
M: Roadside stands made overtures to foreign belief systems.
W: I guess that's how fast-food empires get started.
M: Are springing up.
W: They have already sprung up.
M: I guess that's how fast-food empires get started.
W: They have already started, more than started.
M: Did you arrive under mysterious circumstances?
W: There was no mystery involved, unless you count life itself a mystery.
M: My story is the story of somebody who ran out of stories.
W: I can tell you a story if you want.
M: Is that true?
W: Oh sure, I have even written a number of short stories.
M: It's all in the interpretation.
W: What defines a short story, you mean?
M: That's OK, the thrilling text more than makes up for it.
W: So if you're thrilled by the story, you don't care if it fits a definition.
M: Are you a he-man?
W: I am a she-gal.
M: I can't do it.
W: What can't you do?
M: Like the cat.
W: Is it a very old cat?
M: But in conforming to the truth it hides the truth.
W: How do cats conform to truths?
M: Was that why it was so easy to make the connection between the purchase and the cash?
W: I suppose this is a pedigreed cat?
M: Do you daydream of being a psychoanalyst?
W: I would like to psychoanalyze a cat.
M: Then why go?
W: I'm not going just yet.
M: What could possibly be bothering you?
W: You make it sound as though I live under ideal conditions.
M: A memory course, or a ten-course meal.
W: Ten courses of dark greens will improve the memory.
M: Would you mind giving it an examination?
W: I am giving it a ten-day free trial.
M: Ah, time will tell.
W: That's right, it isn't exactly working yet.
M: I am a she-gal.
W: So you are a fellow lady?
M: That's simply because our civ's in the descending arc.
W: More women in the decline, you mean?
M: Ten courses of dark greens will improve the memory.
W: All these women, remembering all these things.
M: You deny my foolhardy optimism?
W: A lot of old ladies with excellent memories, not that optimistic!
M: I am giving it a ten-day free trial.
W: Then you will switch to a different idea.
M: It's just my memory of a language.
W: The language of childhood dreams?
M: My thinking.
W: What do you think of your childhood?
M: No, a distraction.
W: Your childhood was a mere distraction?
M: No, you have not.
W: I had no childhood?
M: So you prefer everyday speech?
W: I prefer poetic diction.
M: Not through the closed eyelids but later, after the eyes opened.
W: When I awoke, I remembered my mission, and my grief.
M: Can you really be serious before teatime?
W: It's a little past teatime.
M: Now you have me pegged.
W: You are English?
M: Well, here's another way to be exciting.
W: Are the English so exciting as all that?
M: No, I want to be with you forever.
W: Because I am not English?
M: Now they have no weight.
W: Your words?
M: Remember I said something about tomorrow?
W: You implied that the future involved old, greens-eating females.
M: You are English?
W: My background is.
M: I'm not sure a conversation is what I mean when I refer to having something to say.
W: Maybe you want to launch into a monologue.
M: Is this a moral position?
W: I am not morally opposed to monologues, at least onstage.
M: I disagree.
W: With which part of my moral stance do you disagree?
M: When I awoke, I remembered my mission, and my grief.
W: What caused your grief?
M: This is not something I can prove.
W: You don't have to prove your tears to me.
M: So you won't write it down and send it to me?
W: I'm more of an e-mailer, these days.
M: You speak with such authority upon such complex and esoteric subjects.
W: You flatter me unduly.
M: You may sell your soul if you like, I can't stop you.
W: I wasn't planning to anytime soon.
M: Waaah!
W: You want me to sell my soul?
M: Alone now, my fears surface.
W: I'm still here, let me reassure you.
M: You mistake me for something I am not.
W: You weren't feeling insecure and abandoned just then?
M: (Picks up phone)
W: Are you calling your therapist?
M: Back off.
W: All right, I'll give you your privacy.
M: You are?
W: Goodbye!
M: Closing in 5 seconds ... Goodbye!

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posted at 5:34 PM
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