When I walked in I sensed the smell of milk. Odd. I kept the lights off and allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I maneuvered across to the other end of the apartment, faintly remembering what might obstruct my way. I reached the curtain I had hung over the sliding balcony door and tucked it aside. I slid the door open to let the evening in. It's warm ...relatively. These aren't thoughts which were somehow magically translated, transcribed in these sparks of light currently beaming into your eyes. These are words being written right now. Tap tap tap, the sound you'd hear the keys make if you were here already. But you aren't here yet. Soon you will be. Soon as I let you in.
I chose to keep the lights off for a reason. And when I decide to think about why, I usually figure it out. But I am choosing to not question myself right now. Often there is no reason to question it. Often there is no one to explain to. But now you are obviously here. I should mention to you while you are here that you have been transported. You exist right now as I type, a presence where your body isn't yet. But soon it will. Like a sign requires you as an element before it can itself be a sign. In that sense you justify the situation I am in at this moment. Much later as your eyes scrub across this barcode of text I print on your screen. As you read, you are now existing in a time that has passed. Here along with me in this room. Hello, I should acknowledge your presence. I should say, the music in our background is Robyn belting a tune. It is dark. I have had some drinks. We are on the third floor looking west. The weather outside is the weather inside. Thank you for visiting. Thank you for being here right now.
Now that you are here I should tell you a story. Hmm, I can't promise a complete story, I should warn. I say this cause I am merely starting a conversation with you, if you can call it that. I am starting a story but I don't know yet if it will complete. I have no idea yet of an arc or an end. I am only beginning to tell you about this evening. A story I have never told before. I don't know if it will be interesting to you. Or how long it will go for. You have the advantage over me on that. You can glance down the page and see how l did by the length. I myself right now can not know. Perhaps if this was a true conversation you can tell me. Respond to me. But no. However, I should mention to you that I also have an advantage. I can travel in time as well. I can go back after I finish the story and edit this paragraph. I can change the sparks to where I am very aware of how the story I am about to tell you went, if it was interesting enough for you to keep on reading, if it is a story with an arc and an ending. But no, I didn't go back and edit this. Let's just go with it shall we?
A woman sat next to me at the local wine bar down the street. There were many open bar stool sand she chose the one directly to my right. After a while I heard a smile of some sort and then felt a poking on my shoulder. I looked over and she introduced herself. Everything else I can tell you after this is not worth reading. Her painful insecurity beamed through in every arrogant, self-righteous, platitude she'd rehearsed. Her unprompted ego oozed with weakness that attacked at mid sentences, hungry and deaf.
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