Working on a Novel
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Working title: The Wakeful Wanderer's Guide to New New England and Beyond.
['I just can't get used to it. So many voices, so many desires. I have to block it out. I know it's rude.']
['I made an omelette and brought a wrap'] Marto responded as gently as he could. ['I don't really know if it's something you like. Hopefully, with time you will get more comfortable with the upgrades. That's how we all get along here.']
They ate in a long dark silence, Marto blocking his communications in empathy with the new arrival.
['it was hard you know, for so long. But I managed. I survived. This doesn't seem quite real now.']
Marto continued in silence for a bit, looking at the muddy Hudson through the leaves. ['this is real, you know. It's all real.']
['but do you know what that means really? I mean, you people doze about and fantasize all day and do nothing but bring gifts and food to each other. It doesn't seem like reality. It seems like you are all drug addicts or in some kind of delusional commune or a cult.']
['it's not that simple. A cult has a leader, a commune has a location. We have no leader. We have no particular belief system, we are everywhere. As for the gifting...'] Marto could feel himself taking a defensive stance. He drew down the account of her situation before arriving. ['you've been through a lot. This is a big transition. Give it some time.']
"But you just keep bringing me things!" She was shouting now. "And it's so quiet here! Why don't you all say something?"
Marto paused. If she were anyone else, her merit would suffer a severe drop. He composed himself.
['it's normal to feel like things are out of balance. When you are ready you can find ways to gift as well. Right now you need to rest and adjust. Please try to limit your responses to thext. That was agreed.']
['you're all a bunch of zombies!’] her eyes widened. ['I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I guess I mean, what is in it for you?']