Chemistry
"I'm positive," she said to them after a pregnant pause. "No, I mean, I'm certain of it. Normally, these things don't lie."
A longer pause this time. Not pregnant, though. She had nothing fruitful left for them. Why wouldn't they say anything. She'll have to produce the conversation, whether she wants to, or not. Whether she can, or not.
"But lying implies consciousness and intent, and that is not what I am saying to you, or meaning to say to you. Or just meaning. It's blue or it's not. Or pink. I think it's blue. But it's neither. Therefore, I suppose we are certain it is neither."
Their mirrored eyes look sterile. To her.
She continued, resentfully, certainly out of obligation. "Normally, these things-- that is to say, I mean-I meant to say--it's abnormal for these things to be erroneous."
They were never, not ever, this untalkative.
Suddenly the word abnormal seemed like a non-word. To her. And she had stressed it so certainly. In her head it looked like a mistake on a child's homework. But how would she know that? She'd never looked at a child's homework. At a child's anything. She took the role of teacher, instead, and marked it wrong with a red pen on the test in her mind. But certainly that was the right word. The word was not erroneous. Certainly Unnormal isn't right. Unnormal would, in fact, be erroneous. She realized she was pausing, not pregnantly, again, and staring without purpose at the trash can under the counter.
She hoped they didn't think she was staring at the coffee grounds stuck to the lid. Well she had been staring at the coffee grounds stuck to the lid, but she hadn't. They'd be wrong to think she was judging. She thought about saying that she wasn't staring at the coffee grounds, but just at the trash can, but why would she say she was staring at their trash can?
They looked nervous.
What was in that trash can?
She thought to ask, but she certainly didn't want to seem abnormal.
But she was. Was she not?
"So, what's in the trash can?"
They spoke. Finally. "Besides coffee grounds?"
Snide assholes.
"Yes. Besides coffee grounds."
"Wouldn't you like to know."
A longer pause this time. Not pregnant, though. She had nothing fruitful left for them. Why wouldn't they say anything. She'll have to produce the conversation, whether she wants to, or not. Whether she can, or not.
"But lying implies consciousness and intent, and that is not what I am saying to you, or meaning to say to you. Or just meaning. It's blue or it's not. Or pink. I think it's blue. But it's neither. Therefore, I suppose we are certain it is neither."
Their mirrored eyes look sterile. To her.
She continued, resentfully, certainly out of obligation. "Normally, these things-- that is to say, I mean-I meant to say--it's abnormal for these things to be erroneous."
They were never, not ever, this untalkative.
Suddenly the word abnormal seemed like a non-word. To her. And she had stressed it so certainly. In her head it looked like a mistake on a child's homework. But how would she know that? She'd never looked at a child's homework. At a child's anything. She took the role of teacher, instead, and marked it wrong with a red pen on the test in her mind. But certainly that was the right word. The word was not erroneous. Certainly Unnormal isn't right. Unnormal would, in fact, be erroneous. She realized she was pausing, not pregnantly, again, and staring without purpose at the trash can under the counter.
She hoped they didn't think she was staring at the coffee grounds stuck to the lid. Well she had been staring at the coffee grounds stuck to the lid, but she hadn't. They'd be wrong to think she was judging. She thought about saying that she wasn't staring at the coffee grounds, but just at the trash can, but why would she say she was staring at their trash can?
They looked nervous.
What was in that trash can?
She thought to ask, but she certainly didn't want to seem abnormal.
But she was. Was she not?
"So, what's in the trash can?"
They spoke. Finally. "Besides coffee grounds?"
Snide assholes.
"Yes. Besides coffee grounds."
"Wouldn't you like to know."
posted by maryk at 11:18 AM
6 Comments:
Give me context, give me history, give me those things for this, and could well be a fan... or at the very least, impressed.
They seem in love! And there's a not-baby being unborn! It's within the context of no context! It has middle, an end and no beginning! I, for one, am impressed. But not a fan. No way.
I just all of a sudden wrote this today before an audition.
I actually thought about putting more exposition in it, but decided against. Just sort of a writing exercise of sorts. Ideas were flowing, so.... But I also like that you have to make it your own or put it where you think it should be and who you think they are. It's changed meanings each time i've read it.
Oh, and I wasan't high when i wrote that.
....but i kinda am now....
i like it, that slice o life. I likes it too lot.
I hope this means you're pregnant, because that's what I'm telling everyone.
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