It was late, I felt compelled to write, and instead of writing something good and interesting, I wrote this. After re-reading it when the sun was actually out, I came to the conclusion that this is some sort of surreal hibrid between poetry and prose. Or, perhaps, even something worse as well. I really don't know. But...at least I wrote something. Something I wasn't required to write. Heh...writing is good.
+--+ +--+ +--+
Silence, silence, silence; yawn, shuffle, shuffle.
Silence, silence, silence; rustle, shuffle, yawn.
Screaming, "What the hell are you doing Ash?"
"Rreeaa-ding," was the drawn-out reply, the last syllable being accented, making it sound more like the bell on a 99-cent kitchen timer than a word.
"You should be sleeping!" Still, this was screamed, as if from a distance of many, many miles.
"Yeah...yeah..."
Silence, silence; rustle, rustle.
This time, the female voice was more tentative; curious, even, "Um...Ash? You don't read."
"I can read."
"Well, I know you can, you just don't."
"But I'm reading now."
Pause for eye rolling, "That's not the point. I want to know why you are reading now."
"Why do you care?" Long yawn; six blinks of watery, burning, brown eyes.
Footsteps, footsteps; nearer, nearer.
"Because I just do, okay? Is it wrong to be curious?"
Page turn, "I'm reading a book."
"Good one; that was real informative."
Tangled red hair peeking in the doorway, along with a face, of course.
Overjoyed, grinning, "Hello Misty!"
Aqua eyes narrowing, eyebrows raising, "Hello to you too Ash. I suppose it is nice to greet one another halfway through a conversation."
"You weren't here."
"I was just in the other room!" Finger pointing through doorway to adjoining hotel room.
"That's not the point."
More eye rolling; eye-roller sits on bed.
"'The Master's Guide to Pokemon Training'...heh...I should've known."
"It's a book."
"Yeah...but not a real book."
Brown eyes detach from words, "What makes one real?"
"Well, it has to be good, and it has to be long, and it has to..."
Black-haired boy in pajamas interrupts, "But it's here, Misty. I can touch it, and hold it, and read it."
"That's not the point."
"But it is, Misty. This is realness." Presenting of book to cynical eyes.
Cynical eyes rest on glossy cover, on fingerprint smudges, on bold title and colorful photos. "Just because you can touch it, huh?"
"Yep."
"See, I told you you don't read. If we all adopted your logic, tons of things wouldn't be real; good, evil, love, hate, friends..."
Another interruption by black-haired boy, "...you wouldn't be a real pain..."
"I really hate you Ash."
"I really hate you too, Misty."
Silence, silence, silence; shuffle.
Blurted by boy, "What's love?"
'The Master's Guide to Pokemon Training' rests between black-haired boy and red-haired girl, forgotten.
A shrug, "Don't know."
"Me either. I was hoping you would."
Deep breath; boy starts, "I think..." boy pauses, "I think that I love this book."
Finger taps cover of, 'The Master's Guide to Pokemon Training.'
Blue eyes scowl, "Because it's real?"
"No. Because you think that it's not."
"That wasn't my point!" Slender hand bangs on mattress.
Brown eyes grin, "I know...I know."
Boy's hand takes girl's wrist, "I think..." boy pauses, "I think that I love this book too."
Blue-eyed face turns sad, teary. Whining, "You don't read."
"I can read."
A hug.
Silence, silence, silence; shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Silence, silence, silence; click, click; black.
end
