I just found the following in a folder. In a docx file entitled “IMPORTANT.” It seems I wrote it in 2014. I have no idea what it is or why I thought it was “IMPORTANT.”
* * *
“It’s not right, you know. A man should be free to fly in the world without having to worry about burning death clouds.”
“Do what?” said a voice from under the table.
“The volcano in Iceland. Funny word. Began with a B.” He hunched a little and looked down, seeking the word. He gave the impression of peering down into the algae-smeared pool of his own memory, hunting something on the dark shallow bottom, among the rusted coins and fish shit. Finding the word, he pulled it out with a creak of his back and strangled it in the air, not leaving a single scale of Icelandic inflection in its production. “Bardabunga. That was the bugger.”
He sat at the table, in a mindful way, treating his spine like it was a string of unexploded bombs.
“Why are we even here?” said the voice from under the table.
* * *
Answers on a postcard to my doctor probably