Some notes before I present the next ones:
- If the previous set made you sad, it was unintentional. This is just a creative exercise.
- OK, so there are other topics. Cheery ones like (puke!) first love, but I only had one and I don’t want to write about it.
- My first love makes me sad. LOL! (Go figure!)
- Do you find this freaky? Again, this is just a creative exercise. If I run out of ideas, I will stop.
- Then start again, if and when I feel like it.
Which scene did you like from the first set? For some reason, I tend to forget the one entitled “The Checklist”. I don’t know why.
The first one in the first set seems to require some explanation on what happened. I thought “the big one” was common knowledge.
Here are two. The second one leaves you with something to think about.
Scene 6. The Fly
OK, old lady! What you doing looking at us? Haven’t seen flies doin’ it yet?
Yeah — yeah — this is how we do it? Fly-ly, I have not seen how you guys do it … am I missing much?
So, here it goes .. yes — yes — yes …
Old Lady: That’s what you get for overtime. Snicker – snicker – snicker.
Scene 7. The Request.
“Umbrellas — put your umbrellas here …. sorry, that’s the exit there. Yup, straight ahead. No need to open the door. You should know the drill by now”, the Doorman shouted. Looking at me, he said, “Oh, New One. Let me help you with your umbrella.”
“Do I get … “, I said, trying to think of the next word.
“A number?’ he smiled at me. “Oh, no. Your umbrella knows you. No need for numbers here. There is no number for the request line too. You know the joke here, right? Your number was up so … ?! Got it?”
The idiom is a joke here. They still speak English here.
“No, we don’t have a language here. I read your thoughts. Neat trick of the Doorman. Welcome to the Request Center.”
I was quiet.
“OK, not much of a talker and no thoughts up there either. Anyway, your Processor will step out of the Blue Request Room and you know when it’s your turn, OK? ”
I nodded and sat at the nearest available seat, very similar to the ones I saw at the ER when they brought me there — red with metal legs.
After what seems to be a few minutes (there are no clocks here, so I thought of minutes, more realistic than seconds and hours), my Processor was just there before me.
“Hello, New One! Let’s go our Blue Request Room for your One Big Question.” He led me there, waving a file folder.
In the room were two red chairs with a metal table in between. The scene looks vaguely familiar.
The Processor chuckled, “Yeah, I saw that movie, too. But we are here for the Big Question. Let me just read your file here ….”. He scanned a three-pager and said, “Hmmmm, interesting … oh, an accident. Too bad ….”. He then looked like he was mentally computing something and looked at me and said: “You got an AVERAGE Life Rating.”
“I don’t understand. What’s a Life Rating?” I said.
“You know that very well. Don’t say you don’t know how you did in Out There. So, you don’t agree with my evaluation? Anyway, in Out Here, we do not judge. You do that very well … well, Out There.”
“Well, that I understand. It cannot be avoided.”
“That’s OK, New One. Are you ready for the Big Question?” His eyes twinkled when he asked.
“I guess so. We seem to have nothing much to talk about. May I know what it is now?”
“ARE YOU READY? The question is : Do you want to go back to Out There?
I decided to be quiet. I needed a long time to think about it.
Out There. Again.
Bye for now. Busy here.