archives of love

2 | oedipus

2) oedipus

"isn't it sad," she said. "each time i find the ending so beautiful. he is the embodiment of the human race, symbol of blindly struggling toward a future which is already predetermined."

"i never saw it that way," he said, "i just found the whole book weird, with the incest and all." he would not lie. he disliked that book, like he disliked the cold home he had to return to every night. but new perspectives were always refreshing. he watched her closely, the way her eyelashes fluttered and the way her hair whispered against her dimpled cheeks.

her eyes were deep bottomless pools. she was deep in thought. he pictured her as a worldly and contemplative greek statue, something that people stared at awe at as they passed by. in her eyes he could almost see the functioning of her brain, the nerves flashing and flaring in bursts of electricity. "do you believe in predestination?" she asked. "do we even have free will?"

i would like to think i'm fated to be with you, he thought, but all he did was smile and say i don't know.