An absurdist dialogue.
They are very fragile. Everything kills them.
Can you give an example?
No need for examples. Everything kills them, everything.
So, pesticides, of course.
What about temperature? At thirty two degrees, will they…?
What about dust? Soil that’s a bit dry?
Let me save you some time. Dirt kills them.
I’m not done. Sunlight kills them. Air kills them. Space itself kills them. Time! Living! Everything kills them!
I don’t understand. If that’s true, how are they around?
Well. There is one thing that doesn’t kill them.
There we are, then. And?
What doesn’t kill them is… talking about them.
Talking about them.
That’s right. It’s the only thing that encourages their growth.
So, right now, you mean…?
It does seem that way. And yet, they thrive on it. They grow and grow. And grow.
I’m sorry, but you’ve really lost me now.
They can get quite beautiful when they mature enough. Strange, but beautiful. And also…
Dare I ask?
Dangerous. Also dangerous.
Uh-huh. When do they reach that stage?
As in, if we keep talking about them…
We put ourselves at risk. Yes.
And what makes them dangerous, exactly?
Well, when they mature they suddenly start wanting. Only, what they want is…
Let’s just say, it’s not something they can have. So.
Don’t tell me you’re going to leave it there.
I’m afraid I must. If I said more, who knows what would happen to us.
Now you’re just being—
Shh! Are you completely mad? We must stop talking about them now.