Curious

Chapter 15: Finally, A Plot

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Finally, a Plot

Simon knew there was nothing to do but to leave his bedroom, go downstairs, maneuver between a sea of people without letting the tide of incessant conversation pull him, manage to make it to the door alive, and leave the house to greet his fate.

Because I had come into his world to greet and meet with Simon. And that was what he saw when he looked out the window. And he knew, as I knew, that if he didn't meet with me bad things were going to happen until he did—as such is the way of things in the world of stories, however unfortunate it may be for the miserable character in question.

So Simon did just that. He crept out of his bedroom, went downstairs, and was only momentarily distracted by the flow of conversation before he rudely excused himself, and made his way to the door, opened the door, met me on the other side of the door.

"Hello," I said smiling. "Long time, no writing."

Simon thought this was a lame interpretation of an even lamer greeting. But of course he didn't say anything. He still wasn't sure if I was person he wanted to mess with but he knew better than to be downright rude. He knew he had to be cautious, which I respected.

"Aren't you going to say something?" I asked when Simon didn't say anything. I knew why he wasn't speaking as I could read every thought of his but I still wanted to ask him to say t out loud, for the sake of you, my dear reader.

"Why are you here?"

"I am glad that you thought to ask such an insightful question. Shall we take a walk?"

"Do you do all your great revelations during a walk?"

"Yes, walks are good for health and for the brain, as my grandmother used to say."

"Did she?"

"No. Not really. But I wish there was a reason as witty as that one behind it. The truth is I just like walking and talking at the same time."

"You are strange." Simon commented.

"So I have been told, many a time. Apparently eccentricity is imperative in a writer. It helps with the creativity."

"Ah. I see."

"Do you?"

"No. I'm just pretending to make conversation."

"Ah. Now I see." See what a ridiculous conversation this is, that is. What horrible dialogue. Note to self: delete in edits.

"What do you see?"

"You are well on your way to being wise, Mr. Simon Hill."

"Am I?" Simon continued in our little word game.

"So it would seem," I said. We rounded a corner and with the corner, we rounded a corner in our conversation. We were silent for a while. Simon was dreading every breath I took while I was happily thinking excitedly about the plot I had finally come up with for Simon. It was to be amazing. Honestly. It would live up to my promise. No one would have seen it before. I couldn't wait to bring it to action. I just wished I could skip ahead to the exciting part but of course I had to go through the boring middle before I could get to any fun parts. Sigh. Writing is such a bore.

"Well," Simon finally said. "What torture would you like to throw at me this time?"

I laughed at this. I could not help myself. The fact that Simon considered what I had done to him thus far to torture? It was almost too hilarious to think of. If he thought that was torture, what was he to think of my future plans? Certainly he wouldn't see them in any sort of positive light. But whatever. If I cared about Simon's feelings, I would not be writing a story about him. After all, a story is basically subjecting a character to torture for the sake of entertaining your reader. Gosh. When you say it like that, it sounds like a writer is some kind of cruel machine. I assure you, reader, that my species is not cruel. We just see reality in a different light.