Thursday, January 15, 2009

Obliged to say something, he said this:

I prefer the blue one.

Having said this, he thought to himself:

Was that what they were asking?

Then, bored with his own thoughts, he began staring at a woman across the room. She had short hair and wore a long dress. He thought:

I think I’ve thought of her before.

A man approached him. He wasn’t wearing a hat, so his head was gleaming. The man smiled, then asked him:

Do you really think so?

He had no idea how to respond to this. He thought for a moment, then said:

I forget.

The bald man seemed to accept this response, so left him alone.

Now he stood thinking such things as:

I shouldn’t have said that.


There’s a pebble on the floor.


An odd look, that.


Be still, be still.

He began whispering this last thought aloud. Something was moving that he’d rather have remained still. It kept moving, however, and he nearly began to scream: Be still! Be still! He didn’t scream this, though. He merely stood there, occasionally thinking a thought, occasionally speaking, occasionally mutely staring on, but really not doing much more than this. Finally he went home.

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