a young father of three was shot at after a party, a gathering of sorts, and a head wound appeared as a result. the entire head fell off shortly after, leaving a nasty stain on the carpet. many witnesses felt reminded of the recent warning by the government not to hang on to threadbare carpets. he had already lost part of his leg, and walked with the aid of prosthetic limb (which went missing ever so often) and a chinese prostitute (who always brought it back). wonders, reckons and reasons are out and raving to see if his head will be replaced by a plastic bag, as some say, or a nice cup of tea in the local pub, a solution favoured by most. a woman, who described him as a lovely chap, said he had to have part of his leg removed following a court order not to leave the room before certain issues were settled. offally does not need stories like that in times like this, said sponge, never did. sponge pouted. the man beside him did not. the contrast still did not make for a great picture. sponge always looks big in photographies.
we’ve seen the horror, said sponge, the horror. that line we had to quote.
exactly, said breadroll, war on horror, the terror of war. very sombre. i recall offally.
offally was an awful mess, said sponge, still is. can’t put your foot anywhere there, it’s all covered in shit and goo.
whatever metaphor we come up with, said sponge, it’ll pale in view of the obvious and strike fear into the heart of the uninitiated. herr brekst, back as back can be, was asleep, fast. he didn’t react. won’t react. said breadroll. never really does this day and time. i remember, i saw him doing it. if you can’t trust your eyes, said breadroll, how good is your memory. better i suppose. suppose not, said breadroll with a finishing gaze. oh fate, said sponge. big words were never their forte.
another repetitive day, breadroll asked.
no, said sponge, it must be a trick. you asked for it, said breadroll. i think we had exactly the same episode before, he said. feck off. piss off. swear words. dirty language. lead your outlets to propel you further. good british ways of telling some-one to bugger off.
let your droplets propel you further, very elegant.
outlets, they said, it’s outlets.
i know, code for droplets. trust me.
they waited.
evolution has equipped train people very well for whatever they are doing. whatever it is, they excel in it, word has it. they meet to discuss, and resolve without hesitation. they sell tickets in anticipation of oncoming trains. sponge wants to buy a ticket. train people now will be able, in a position so to speak, well trained and with a mandate to perform this very service to the general public. sponge here is lucky, you could spell that out for him, to be able to receive this service.
possible hickups aside, sponge will soon be the proud holder of a valid train ticket. he will also be permitted to apply for one on behalf of breadroll.
so there will be a meeting of sorts, sponge inquired. thank you for inquiring, the train person said, but regret to say that we’d like to keep this confidential. it’s commercially sensitive. he emphasised commercially to stress the importance. it’s important so, said sponge. very, the train person said.
the train person, a flimsy man with thick red brushy hair, got up from his chair and turned to go. you’d be better off getting a bus, if they was one, he said.
i’m afraid nothing will happen, sooner or later, said sponge and then said nothing. i couldn’t say why, but definitely, nothing will happen, we just don’t know when. so, there is this feeling, somewhat stuffy and dark, but definitely there. i told you know, you can quote me on that.
we should mention more people, said sponge, or people lose interest. we neither have account nor page, twit or twat. like bulk about hulk and stuff. but that would be asking too much. something snappy.
or interesting. said breadroll.
or interesting, of course. something mad.
to cause outrage.
uproar.
madness.
mad.
yes, that would be something.
placed firmly on the moral highchair sponge felt smug and in mood for comments. who to comment on when nobody is around? lecture the odd toe? ask whether lecturing fingers may be more sensible? place another question mark in the shortness that is this story? do the right thing, the voice said and ye shall be rewarded.
who are you, said sponge.
an apparition, the voice said. mother mary today and cousin keith another. your shadow and your shade. they are selling tickets over there. thank you, said sponge. 30 euro, the voice said, to support the laden. a bargain. a word for the stricken for only 10 euro extra.
look at that, said sponge, they are all waiting. peacefully in peace. not a bother.
a queue, said breadroll.
i can see that, said sponge.
proper order, said breadroll.
whatever the damage, it will be done, the man said and left the house. he strolled for a bit and came home again. he had a sandwich, plain, frugal. he drank coffee, water, fanta. in that order. he burped. very rude, he said to himself. cheer up, he said but he wouldn’t listen. he never does. pointless, he said. not worth the effort. he left the house. those very the highlights of the day.
another man had his hair cut, got injured, ill, died. but that is a different story.
remember the block, said sponge. no, said breadroll. gone a long time now, said sponge, we should leave too, but where too. we ask ourselves all the time, everybody else would have lost patience. not we, said breadroll. he tried to find the edge of the platform with his eyes. no avail, too vast it was. we’re lost, he said. big time, said sponge, that platform is a forest. would you believe, so vast and void. and insects, said breadoll.
remember, said sponge. hello. hello hello. hello. two hellos there and two hellos back in return.
that was a knife attack.
yes, it was, funny, when you think back.
quite, said breadroll, the old days. the fat lady sung and the phone never rung. deliveries never arrived and everybody did with less. crime, punishment, all real back then. i liked butter but that’s not on these days. no, siad sponge, all the carbs could kill you.
a burly man of the agile looking type was standing near the door as the train took off, waving at a lady of his acquaintance, who was waving back wildly, hurling abuse at the train people. i reckon she has missed the train. there won’t be another one for some time, he thought. i shouldn’t have waved. he decided to forget the episode.
sponge and breadroll had missed this train. there was no doubt. they had ran into a woman hasting the other way. she was waving wildly. somebody she know, said breadroll. very well, said sponge. we’ll wait.
look, it is like this, he said, we have to talk to people. go out there, do something.
funny you say that, breadroll said. he paused. always paused. he was the most difficult person to write dialogue for. must have been the drink. yes, he drank, like a sponge. sponge didn’t bother.
why, he said. we could have a meeting with the train people. learn wregwsss or whatever they speak. train people have a sense of humour, we’ve got to be more like them, more positive, outgoing, involved. get into dialogue with the lot.
problem is, dialogue involves two people but when you catch one of them another one inevitably joins in.
there must be a way to involve more than two people in a dialogue.
it sort of only works in literature.
26 November, 2009 
