Tuesday, February 24, 2009

A Refrain

"You don't get it, kid," says Cutter. "The loop won't break. Anyone punches that ticket, they ride in circles 'til doomsday."

I flip a lock of hair from out my eyes and admire the glittering sliver on the table between us. Tiny metal rectangle, pearlescent one end, black at the other. "That's what I want," my voice says, "I want to feel this way forever."

"It'll pass," he says and sighs.

"That's the point."

"I mean the feeling that you want it to last. It'll get old."

"... what?"

"You'll get over it," he says. "Everyone does. For now, just relax. Enjoy the ride. Don't let's lose our heads and do stupid shit as we peak. That's what I'm here for, right? I'm your sitter. Just relax." He folds his arms and nods to emphasize this last part.

I sigh theatrically and lean back in my chair. Cutter softly laughs and shakes his head. He looks away.

I snatch the sliver from the table and slot it.

"You don't get it, kid," says Cutter. "The loop won't break. Anyone punches that ticket, they ride in circles 'til doomsday."

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