A: What I write has gone through some sort of drunk’s transformation. No will behind it, no force, no habit, no consistency. Should never have stopped reading. Job one, as it were.
B: Tell me more about the definition of sanity.
A: Insanity’s when you do the same thing over and over expecting a different result. Sanity may be to expect the same result?
B: Both sound mad as hell.
A: Yeah, didn’t feel like a good answer.
B: Cold season’s coming.
A: It’s just allergies.
B: No, cold. Frio. Brr. Autumn, with rain and everything.
A: Ah, sweater season.
B: The dark place.
A: I don’t think we need to go there.
B: You want force behind your writing, yeah?
A: I want to write a play again. I miss our back-and-forths.
A: I said I miss our back-and-forths, miss talking with you. You know the wrong thing to say. Every time. My daemon.
A: Demon? No “a?” I said I miss you? I have no idea about the definition of sanity.
From the morass