Dear M,
It happened again. I had set the scene. It was for an inevitable and unavoidable small encounter. The only uncertainty was when it would take place. It would not go beyond four days, as I knew so well. I had set my trap, is the more appropriate way of saying it.
The script was ready, scratched and rewritten and polished several times. It had to go this way. I had some taunting dialogs to deliver. A few words to convey with my eyes. A few questions, a frown, a chuckle at the end. For the responses, a few possibilities were worked out. If this, then that. If not, then-
I had thought of all ways it could go. I had a backup plan for the impromptu change in script. After all, I was the only person who knew this was theatre. We all script our drama daily, when we expect a scene. But this was beyond all that common sense decreed.
Trust me, the plan was impeccable.
You see, I was experimenting again with live subjects. The harmless experiments that they would not realise are experiments, and would slip out of their minds soon. But it would find its way to my work somewhere, somehow.
All this preparation, and yet I slipped. It happened on the evening of day three. I was ready for the evening scene and its possibilities, and I was also prepared for day three. There would have been a change of script if it had shifted to day four. But what I was not prepared for was my severe bout of exhaustion after a long day pretty much on the road. I just wanted to gobble my dinner and hit the pillow. I was at my unprepared best. That's when it happened.
The script slipped from the very first word that came out of my lips. The unexpected, surprised "Ah." From there it went south. I could salvage a little, but the main part was gone. This was not something I could try again for at least five or six months.
But I will not be giving up. I should be scripting a new scene soon, involving other innocent, unsuspecting victims who will be immortalised in my story, without their ever realising it.
Love.
It happened again. I had set the scene. It was for an inevitable and unavoidable small encounter. The only uncertainty was when it would take place. It would not go beyond four days, as I knew so well. I had set my trap, is the more appropriate way of saying it.
The script was ready, scratched and rewritten and polished several times. It had to go this way. I had some taunting dialogs to deliver. A few words to convey with my eyes. A few questions, a frown, a chuckle at the end. For the responses, a few possibilities were worked out. If this, then that. If not, then-
I had thought of all ways it could go. I had a backup plan for the impromptu change in script. After all, I was the only person who knew this was theatre. We all script our drama daily, when we expect a scene. But this was beyond all that common sense decreed.
Trust me, the plan was impeccable.
You see, I was experimenting again with live subjects. The harmless experiments that they would not realise are experiments, and would slip out of their minds soon. But it would find its way to my work somewhere, somehow.
All this preparation, and yet I slipped. It happened on the evening of day three. I was ready for the evening scene and its possibilities, and I was also prepared for day three. There would have been a change of script if it had shifted to day four. But what I was not prepared for was my severe bout of exhaustion after a long day pretty much on the road. I just wanted to gobble my dinner and hit the pillow. I was at my unprepared best. That's when it happened.
The script slipped from the very first word that came out of my lips. The unexpected, surprised "Ah." From there it went south. I could salvage a little, but the main part was gone. This was not something I could try again for at least five or six months.
But I will not be giving up. I should be scripting a new scene soon, involving other innocent, unsuspecting victims who will be immortalised in my story, without their ever realising it.
Love.
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