You
have to tell me truth.
Interrogation. Speech.
"
Are you still saying that you have absolutely no idea where you might
have been in the last twenty four hours
Not one ?
No trigger ? "
The plain clothes policeman, well, boss, motioned firing a gun clicking an empty barrel memory in Thomas, dressed in a blue t-shirt, flared cords and stubble.
Some
money blew helplessly around some cornfield.
Or was that some movie ?
Helicopter and a blue flash across, and back in the office.
"
Did I miss much? "
" Still waiting for the Italians. "
" We should do lunch, talk about stuff. "
" Yeah, lunch, stuff… "
The
boss shuffled off, paranoia had led to nothing, Simplicity, daya to
day life in the office. Boycotting Nestlé.
The intensity was completely imaginary. Simplicity, day to day life
in the office. Boycotting Nestlé.
The intensity was imaginary, a virtual layer you could slice off in
a paperless office full of paper.
Irresponsibly
making himself apathetic, and charged with bad vibes he tried to not
let bother him, but were overwhelmingly fundamental to what he thought
and how he wanted to live, even if he would crush himself in the process.
Something had to get out, it was a slide, a whole playground with a
see saw style balance
"
I love you. "
" I love you too, more, you know. "
" No, me. "
Love
was still a four letter word.
It was difficult to know whether there was still Air or not. It looked
like there wasn't.
Love was difficult as love was the only thing. It was the bond that
turned nothing into happiness, and happiness was the best.
He loved Air.
Try
sunlight, he'd be a vampire or vicar later on, and three days after
lovestruck he felt more like a virgin.
Hard to write, hard to be interested, the planet slopped revolving when
not resolving around Air. Freudian slips and mistakes.
Throw you arms round the problem and say your sorry, but this is the
way I have to feel if I'm ever gonna keep any sanity.
Delicate flowers in an orange fruit bowl on the carpet, sensitively placed to keep most of the stems in water before they'd dry, and the tulips petals would drift off and the unusual red radial flower would become more and more obscure as the days flew on with aching regret.
