Have a story. Haven’t forgotten about that (yet). I’ll update with more information on everything later.
The story’s about a woman talking to her imaginary friend. Had an interesting time noticing that I’m developing an idiosyncratic style.
Status: “let it go…”
Me: “Like this.”
She dropped the stone into the pond, watching the ripples lazily sprawl over the water. She turned to her with an inquisitive look.
“You try, now?”
She was wearing a coat and a beanie of sorts, appearing inquisitively bespecled while sitting back from the water.
“It’s okay.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Why are we here, again?”
Tentatively, she tossed a stone farther out, tracing a gentle arc through the air before again plummeting into the frigid expanse.
“Just because; it’s nice to get out once in a while, right?”
“Well, you usually only talk to me when you’re bored or stuck. Well, now at least. Which is it this time?” She leaned forward, resting her chin on a fist.
“I’m throwing stones into a pond: what do you think?”
“I think you’re still bitter about it.”
She scooped up a stone and tried to skip it. 3 skips. I never was really good at this, she reflected.
“Can’t we talk about something else? We used to talk about everything when we were younger.”
“Well, that was then.”
4 skips. Pond such as this had too much grass, and not enough stones laundered by the surf to skipping perfection.
“I mean, you haven’t talked to anyone about it since it happened a month ago. You really need to-” she hefted a rock, and threw it overhand “-get it out.” The rock buried itself in the park turf on the other side of the pond.
“Well, then let’s talk about it.”
“I would rather you talk to someone else about it. It’s not good to keep these sorts of things internalized.”
She almost pegged a dog playing frisbee. Obviously, the shoddily clothed youth playing with it would be willing to wade into the pond to retrieve the disc. Probably should hit him in the head and put him out of the misery he would certainly
She had gotten off the bench and was waving her hand it front of her face with a slight look of concern. She grabbed her wrist, and gave a tug.
“Let’s go before you hurt someone.”
The park wasn’t crowded yet: it wouldn’t be until after 3. They walked for a while along the path, heading towards the nearest buildings rising over the trees. Back to the jungle of concrete and steel. Back to an empty apartment. Home.
“Okay, so tell me what’s on your mind. You’ll have to talk to someone else, obviously: I haven’t been someone to talk to for 10 years now.”
She squeezed shut her eyes, thinking: “It’s him I’m thinking about. I’m… just, so angry. Still. I… just…” A single tear.
“Don’t worry, hun. I know all the details.”
Small smile. “Yeah, I keep forgetting about that.”
“I think,” she pondered for a bit, “you just need to learn to