Wednesday, April 26, 2006
listen...II
At lunch, I went back outside to the little bridge. The sun was high, and the air cool and moist. I could just smell the sea salt in the air, that's what smelled so good to me.
"Hello." the same voice said.
"Oh, hello." I replied. I'd been doing some thinking since I'd talked to the, whatever it was, out there earlier. "Listen, I really enjoyed talking to you earlier, but I'm afraid if I keep talking to you that I'll feel compelled to write about our conversations, and I'm not sure I want to."
"Why?" it said.
"Well, although I know that you are just a cleaver, yet somewhat contrived literary device for explaining how I'm experiencing this small piece of nature nestled inside a larger not-so-natural city, I think the others might think I'm just copying one of my friends." I admitted.
"Who?"
"You mean, who am I copying, or who will think I'm copying another person's idea?"
"Yes."
"Ok, for a babbling brook, you don't talk much do you?" I snickered, and went on, "I think that they'll just think I'm taking someone else's idea and using it, you know? I'm afraid they'll think I'm less of a writer, and can't come up with any new ideas, which in truth, is probably right."
"What else?"
"Well, I'm afraid that they'll think I'm just copying my friend Scott, when he writes about his conversations with a garden gnome named Chuck, in his back yard. His conversations are always similar to this, in meaning and tenor."
"But I'm not "Chuck."
"No. You're not." I said. "You seem different. I'm not exactly sure how, but you do. Still, you seem related."
"We are."
"How?" I questioned. "How are you related?"
"The same way you and your friend Scott are related."
"Scott and I aren't related."
"Aren't you?"
"Well," I started "he and I share some common history, it's true. Share some common experiences as well. But we aren't related by blood."
"Blood?"
"Family."
"Family?"
"I'd explain it to you, but it's too complicated." I sighed. Looking at my watch, I said, "I have to go inside."
"Why?"
"It's time."
"Time?"
"Oh.. never mind. You don't really experience time do you."
Silence.
"No, probably not in the same sense that I do. Before I go in, will you let me see what you look like?"
"You've already seen me."
"All I see is the water, the moss covered rocks, the fern, the ivy, and the trees rising above."
"All of that is me."
"Oh." I said. "My mother wouldn't approve of me writing about this. It's all too animistic now."
"Animistic?"
"Later," I said. "Still, you're right. I'm not sure how a literary device can be animistic. We'll talk more later. Ok?"
"Yes. We will."Labels: listen
