"You're crying again."
"No, I'm not."
"Well, you were."
"No, I wasn't."
"Why were you crying?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it does."
"Why?"
A pause.
"Because I think it does."
"Ugh. Why is it always about you?"
"It isn't. Right now it's about you."
"Why me?"
"Because you were crying."
"Leave me alone."
"Will it help?"
"Dunno. Don't care."
"Ah, but you do."
"No, I don't."
"If you didn't, you wouldn't have said so."
"What do you want?"
"Healing."
"Healing?"
"Yeah. Don't you?"
"Does it matter? It's not happening."
"It will."
"NO, it won't."
"How do you know?"
"How do you know?"
Thoughtful pause.
"You're confused."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"You're scared."
"You're going to have to try harder than that."
"Alright: What do you want?"
"Many things."
". . .You want. . .You want."
"To be happy."
"Ahhh, just as so many others. . ."
Irritation.
"Shove off! I told you to leave me alone, didn't I?"
"Will it help?"
"I already told you: I. Don't. KNOW!"
"See? That's exactly why I'm still here."
"Ugh! Why do I even try?"
"Yes, why?"
"Don't you have something else you could be doing?"
"Nope, I've got all the time in the world."
"Then use it bothering someone else!"
"But that'd be no fun."
"For you!"
"Yes, for me."
Silence.
"Look, I'm just not in the mood."
"Why not?"
"I'm struggling."
"With?"
A glare.
"Life."
"Ah, yes, the most unfortunate game. What happened this time?"
"I got stuck talking to you."
Through grit teeth.
A laugh.
"Funny. That's what the others say too."
"Will you please go now?"
"What? Are you done already?"
"What else is there to say?"
"You could tell me what made you cry."
A sigh.
"An apple fell from its tree today. It crashed down to Earth so hard I'm surprised it didn't break."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It collided and became one with the cluster of other apples that had fallen from the tree as well. Some ripe and plump, and the others moldy and withering with decay. I watched it fall and as I did, I realized it wasn't ripe. The weight of it caused it to be cut loose from the tree far before its time. So I rushed over to that apple, picked it up off the ground, dusted it off, and attempted to stick it back into the tree. I thought, just maybe it would be granted more time to ripen, but no matter how hard I tried, it would not – could not – stay in the tree. It was over. I set the pathetic thing back down on the ground. Bitter and hard and unappealing to the eye – surely it won't ever get its chance. That was what I thought. It was cruel, but I'd forgotten nature is nature, and life is life. Nothing can take back what it has done."
"Ah, I see. Thrust without a chance."
"Yeah."
Silence.
"So, now you know. What do you have to say to that? What help can you possibly offer to help this apple?"
Silence once more.
"Yeah. . .That's what I thought."