Lately I’ve been enjoying writing stories that are just dialogue. I hope they aren’t coming out too confusing. I start with a sentence and let the story unfold on its own. In the instance of this one, it’s the absence of story that interests me. The idea of a story being almost an anti-story. It’s not about things taking place, it’s about the experience of the mind. The story of how the mind works, how it becomes what it is. Anyway, enough rambling. May my offering for the week be enjoyable!
In Transit
“Where are we going?”
“Why would you want to know that?”
“I just do. Do I need a reason to ask?”
“Well, if you ask a question, it seems like there ought to be a reason.”
“I guess I just want to prepare myself for what it will be when I get there.”
“If that’s the reason you ask, I promise that when you arrive, you will be well prepared in every way possible.”
“How long will it take?
“How long will what take?”
“To get there. Wherever it is we’re going, how long will it take before we arrive?”
“Odd question for someone who doesn’t wear a watch. I suppose the next question would be ‘what time is it?’ But I’ll answer as before, what do you care how long it takes?”
“Because if it won’t take long I’ll find out where we wind up soon, but if it does take a long time, I can prepare myself for the discomfort of sitting a long time, and the boredom that goes along with it. I can prepare myself for dealing with the uncertainty of where I wind up.”
“So you want me to tell you how long it takes it get to a place you don’t know you’re going to, so that you can start thinking about how uncomfortable you might be along the way? Either I tell you you don’t have long to wait, or I tell you to start worrying about what doesn’t exist?”
“I feel like you’re talking down to me.”
“When you don’t act out of an innate desire to make yourself suffer a future that doesn’t exist, I’ll consider you as an equal.”
“What am I supposed to do if I don’t know how long it will take, nor where I am going?”
“You have a pen and paper. You have someone who will respond to you. You have the scenery outside your window, you have the feel of the car and its interior. You are supposed to make from what you have in the moment whatever you want. You can do whatever you want. And that’s what you’re supposed to do. If you want to use your time to ask me questions designed to irritate yourself by, you may continue, and I will deflect. But, aside from that, you can do whatever else you want with this moment too. I’d hope you decide finally to do something more useful than attempt to annoy yourself further, but, it makes little difference to me either way. I’m the one with the keys and the controls.”
“You take pleasure in having control over me don’t you?”
“That’s just it, I have less control over you than you obviously have over yourself. My business is directing the vehicle. You get to decide what your ride is like. My function is merely making sure you get to your destination safely. ”
“What good is getting there if I don’t know how to prepare myself properly?”
“I told you before, you will be prepared. You have no choice in that. What you do with this moment is up to you. Nothing you do now will effect what happens later. This isn’t a ride of your choosing. When you are older, a true adult, you may wish to go somewhere then. You may direct your own vehicle then. And at that time what you do in one moment may effect whether or not you arrive at a place you decide you want to go, or whether you succeed when you arrive there. But on this ride, as you are, nothing you do now can or will change your preparedness for where you are going. In this moment, you may choose to find something to enjoy, or you may decide to be irritated, but you cannot, and will not, be able to effect your future, whatever it may be.”
When the car did arrive, the boy regretted what time he had wasted speculating about where he now was. He was grateful for the moments he did not worry about his arrival. Where he found himself finally he was grateful to be. Where he found himself finally fit him like the proverbial glove.
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