“Yes, Please Explain”
too much Kafka- slightly off the perpendicular
- my irrational optimism
- tradition would dictate cod here
- the one who’d peed all over everything
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“Yes, please explain about my son,” I said, hurrying up the avenue to avoid any further encounters with people who might recognize me.
“Don’t bounce me so much,” Tessa complained from inside my borrowed tuxedo jacket. “I had too much Kafka this morning.” It was an old inside joke between us. From back when we were partners. I sympathized with her plight, my own bladder being what she currently used as a saddle. But it was hard to maintain smooth locomotion when my concealed passenger threw my posture slightly off the perpendicular, in more ways than one.
“Talk, it’ll distract you,” I suggested, hoping it would distract me too. “Explain everything.” She drew a deep breath, as if to begin a lengthy monologue.
My irrational optimism about learning about my so-called son was thwarted when a man dressed even more resplendently than I launched himself from the doorway of a bistro. The fussy maitre-d steered me into the establishment and directly to a table with other diners already consuming a complex feast.
“Tradition would dictate cod here,” said the lady at the head of the table. “But you know how it is with Contrarian traditions!”
As the entire table erupted in mirth, Tessa hissed up at me, “Get us to the restroom, unless you want to be remembered as the one who’d peed all over everything.”
bonus points for using them in order