scribo ergo sum. ..I think?
THIS IS A GREAT BR FISHING AND WISHING 100 ENTRY
615 words. 85 lines. Theme 2, Communion.
Hey. Still awake?
God, sorry. Didn’t know. I can call back late—
Oh. Nothing much. No, she’s fine. Asleep. We’re fine. Yeah. No; not like that at all.
Over here, it’s still really early, but she needs the sleep. That’s all she does nowadays. Work and sleep, like a cycle. The new job’s killing her. The hours are impossible and she hates her coworkers.
Well, you would be too if you had to put up with it. I understand, I guess. How are you? The job and all—with what’s-his-name?
Your boss, I think. I forget.
Oh. I think so. Yeah.
No, nothing. The last time we talked, you mentioned him a lot was all. I didn’t know th—
I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know. So where are you working now?
How is it over there? I’ve heard good things.
That’s the one good part of her job, too—I mean, what’s-her-name. God. Megan. It must really be late, I couldn’t even think of it for a second. She says the same thing about the customers. Er, the patients.
Here? I guess it just feels late then. Yeah. No, it’s true. How are things otherwise?
I don’t know. Besides work? It’s been a while. Do you still play?
Drums? What did you think I meant?
You should. I mean, I’m sure if your hours are anything like hers, you’re dead tired every day, but you’re really good. Do you still play with that band?
Well, you should find a way to play anyway, you were great.
Oh. The instrument. What did you—
With me? The same, I guess. Actually. No, I’ve been good. Different, but good. Okay, I mean. It’s been a long few months. With work. Work’s been trying. It’s always the same thing is all.
Oh. Yeah. Well, I work on it when I can. I can’t always get to writing and these things take time. It just seems to alternate between writing and living, usually. And when I do get to it, the characters and the scenes—they sort of flesh themselves out. Usually, it’s strange. I’m rarely ‘writing’ anything—I just sort of plant myself in the scene and write down what I see. What happens.
Well, no. I mean, not really. It’s fiction. So…not quite.
I haven’t decided yet. There’s the ending that I wanted when I first started, but as the story went on, it changed and now I don’t know. The original ending felt inadequate. Unauthentic somehow.
No, it’s not necessarily bad. Different, not great. But it’s not over, you know? I’ve still got the pen and the paper and they ended up in different places, but the characters are still around in their world. Still living their lives, even started talking again. So who knows. You know?
Oh, sure. Maybe when it’s finished. Maybe everything will come full circle by the time all this is done. I had no idea you were interested in this stuff. I would love for you to see it. I think you’d get a kick out of it.
Why would she mind?
No, I don’t think she’d understand. I mean, I don’t think she’d care. But that reminds me, I really should let you go.
To sleep? It’s getting late, I mean. I mean, it IS late. Already. Or early, I guess, by now.
It was good to talk to you too. It’s been a while. How long has it been? Not quite eight months?
Sure. Anytime. Have a good night.
Of course, sometime soon. You know I always keep you in the loop.