I’m really enjoying this form of writing only in dialogue. It’s rather fun. Does anyone know of any other authors who wrote stories entirely in dialogue? I figure this can’t be a new thing . . .
A Toast!
“Love? Is that really all you think about?”
“Well, I tried thinking about controlling anything in my life once, but that never went very well. I seem to recall finding myself watching a lot more horror movies when I did. That, and I always wound up burning the toast. I’ve simply come to the conclusion that I’m the kind of guy who prefers toast under-done than over-done.”
“I was being serious.”
“So was I. I mean, I also hear that eating burnt things ups your chances of cancer, but really I prefer the taste of non-burnt toast, and that’s really most of the determining factor.”
“So you actually think about things other than love; at least, toast-wise.”
“Nah, I figure they go hand-in-hand. I mean, If I’m thinking about non-burnt toast, I’m thinking about Love. Actually, it’s more like if I’m eating non-burnt toast I figure I’m on a better track for having something closer to Love. Really what I think about is perfectly toasted toast, and I figure when my toast is finally just right, so too will be the ripening of the flower of my heart. And yes, I realize how that sounded . . . shut up.”
“So, that flower wouldn’t happen to be a pansy by chance?”
“I said shut up. But seriously, the problem is I don’t own a toaster. Trying to get one’s toast just right, in this old conventional oven, is a bee-atch. Now I once saw the perfect toaster, but it was way out of my price range. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done for that toaster . . . aside from getting a job, which, I was too stoned at the time to do. Add in one more factor for why I kept burning the toast! I would stick it in the oven then forget it was in there. Hell, I didn’t even have the cash for an egg-timer to make sure my bread didn’t burn. My friend gave me the pot I was smoking for free, you see–”
“I’m sorry, we’ve stopped talking about your love life by now, right? I mean, if you don’t start talking about jelly or something, I think I’m going to have to blugeon myself to death with a rolling pin.”
“Yes, I’m still talking about Love. What I mean to say is that the toast is a basis for measuring my capacity to accept, and for that matter create, love in my life. Believe you me, I’m looking forward to getting some jelly on my toast like nobodies business! And some butter too! My thoughts on toast are only so that it’ll be perfect for spreading that butter; then gettin’ my jelly on. Marmalade! Or in my case I’ll probably start with cherry. It’s gonna be sweet though . . .”
“Okay, I’m leaving now. This talk of spreading butter is starting to get to my stomach.”
“I think you’re just gettin’ hungry. I’ll bet you just want me to spread you some butter!”
“Goodbye Dave!”
“Bye Charlene. Meet for tea same time tomorrow?”
“As long as you keep your marmalade in your pants. . . you got a date.”
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