“I tried to set up something new,” the impala announces into the phone. “From now on the rule has to be NO DRAMA.” Silence, not so much as a whisper or a rustle of inner speak. As he listens, his ears twitch, and he rubs his soft, mobile muzzle with one of his front hooves. “I don’t want to lose you,” he says. Then, “I love you, too.”
[Author’s note: The “dialogue” was collected, as aural litter, from a phone conversation by the man (Impala) in front of me in an airport line up.]
♦
Candace Savage talks to herself incessantly (inner speak) and occasionally writes things down. She lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.
She can be found at www.candacesavage.ca
♦♦♦
Up Next:
“We sat on the floor with four others drinking red wine from Dixie cups and there wasn’t a stick of furniture in the place.”
The Litter I See Project 