Suicide Lane Cafe

River's Bride

Have you done it? 

No. 

Why?

I don't know what to say anymore. 

What about that one, the one about the three sisters and the dragon egg?

Lost, too. 

You must have something.

Nothing.

You have you. 

What good am I if I cannot do this? 

Write for me, then. 

What about?

Something. Anything. Everything.

I was in the hospital earlier today. 

Go on. 

It was white. So very white. All white, whitewhitewhite, and the nurses and the doctors and the fucking doctors, they ran around like frightened mice assuming power. They didn't know that we were the lions, we were the ones with the crown. And that man, his head as bald as a newborn child, no, even balder, even infants have hair, he sat and smiled at me. I could see his teeth. He had broken teeth. Yellowed and broken and chipped. And he gave me drugs, but I never filled the prescription. 

Hm. 

How was it? 

I take it you do not like hospitals. 

No. 

Hm. 

But was it good? 

I cannot answer that. 

Why not? 

Would you believe me? 

No. Because you are me. And I am you. And you'd only lie to me. 

Me, lie to you? 

Sugarcoat, lie, they're all the same. 

Whose opinion can you trust, then? 

No one. 

And yet you still write. 

Because I must. 

What's stopping you, then?