conversation
11/08/2002 05:32 a.m.
“Um, can I help you?”

“Nope. Well, I mean, maybe. I like cats, but not when they bark at night and no one can get any sleep.”

“Dogs?”

“Hum? Oh, yes, I had a dog once. But he got lost.”

“I meant... nevermind. Did you need something?”

“No thank you.”

“So why are you here?” I glanced around my apartment.

“Oh, I forgot. I’m supposed to give you something. It’s from my sister – the nice one.” A look of devotion filled her mismatched eyes (one was blue, the other green). I instantly knew what I was dealing with.

“Why didn’t she just give it to me?”

“She said I should meet you. I’d like you. Ooops,” she spilled a few drops of Yahoo on my carpet, “I’m sorry. I could fix it...?”

“No!” I said a bit too quickly and a bit too loudly. “I mean, uh, I’ll get it.” I wasn’t sure I wanted her “fixing” anything. That was the way people ended up sneezing purple rodents and hearing tastes and things.

“Okay.” She pulled out bubbles and blew them in various colors and shapes as I cleaned up the mess.

“So Del, ya gonna hand whatever it is over?”

“Del. You know my name.” She looked at me with absolute reverence.

“Mmm-hm. The thing?”

“Right.” She stood up quickly and pulled something out of her pocket. It was butterfly pinned under glass. I laughed and took it carefully. “She said you’d think it was funny, but I don’t know why a dead butterfly is funny. My sister’s sense of humor, I guess... right? Is that why it’s funny?” she asked sincerely, a strand of blue hair hanging in her face.

I looked back at her with admiration. “Well, maybe a bit. But also because you gave it to me.” I smiled hugely.

A grin developed on her face. “I made it funny?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Thanks Del.”

“No problem.”

“Tell your sister – the nice one – I said hi.”

“Okay. Um, I’m going to look for a place I’ve been before. What do you call that?”

“Familiar?”

“Like a spirit? Familiar?”

“Yeah, like a spirit.”

“Thanks. Bye!” She skipped away leaving a shadow of something shimmering behind her.


This story is kind of a departure. We get so caught up in reform and helping ourselves that when a happy time comes along, we don’t know where to turn. I had nothing to do on a random Wednesday so Koye suggested a talk with Death. I wasn’t sad or angry, I told him. I resolved to go to the next best thing. The only one you can really talk to when you’re happy. She’s the only one who’ll understand. And she did. There’s a big Tori Amos thrust (ha) to this story. I think it’s unavoidable when you talk with Delirium. And I’d say it’s about time I got to talking to her; she’s part of my email and everything.

I am currently Insecure
I am listening to Koye talking. We do that a lot. It's fun.