- Tom
- Richard
- Lizzie
- Serendipidy
- Tura
- Norval Joe
- Duane
- Jared
- Planet Z
TOM
And Then She Was Gone
So Many Questions, so little answers. She had it all, wealth, the
adoration of millions. A rich internal spiritual life that gave her a rock
solid center to engage an all to raged modern world. Traveled the world to
comfort the inflected and stormed the hall of power in inflect the
comfortable. What seeping darkness had finally dimmed the light. What
growing weight press the last ounce of joy. Could you see it in her eyes?
The question remain and the answers elude. In the end we are left with
silent ghosts. When the light goes out the darkness gathers.
RICHARD
Questions, questions, questions!
Oh, for crying out loud!
Not another one, surely?
So many questions – it’s almost as if you imagine we’ve no idea what we’re getting into.
Do you honestly think that after three years we haven’t considered the points you’re raising at all?
It’s embarrassing, especially in front of all these people. How would you like to be paraded in front of family and friends and interrogated, it’s just not right!
Let’s just assume the answer is ‘yes’ to all these damn questions?
And just maybe, we’ll get to ‘You may kiss the bride’, before the end of the ceremony!
LIZZIE
I sat at my desk and pondered.
Should I go and interview the man?
Should I shake his hand?
Should I be friendly?
Should I smile?
Should I let him lead the conversation or should I ask him specific questions?
Should I show him the photos? The ones with their faces? The ones where they were still smiling?
And the maps? Should I show him the maps, the ones where the crosses mark the different locations?
Should I ask him…? Should I ask him about the bodies?
And are there more out there? Are there?
Where, please, tell us, where?
SERENDIPIDY
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, after all, it’s not every day you get to interview a real serial killer, especially when you’re just sixteen and doing an exclusive piece for the school newspaper!
But I only had fifteen minutes, and I had to make them count.
So I decided to ditch my prepared list – I could always make up the answers afterwards – and ask the things I really, desperately, wanted to know.
He entered the room.
“Hi, Mister Dahmer…
What would you advise a sixteen year old who wants to get into serial killing?”
TURA
So many questions
———
I was sitting outside a cafe on the Rialto one evening when I saw Jim emerge from the crowd.
“Hey Jim, where you been all these years? Weren’t you searching for the secret masters of ancient wisdom? How’s it going? Can I get you a drink?”
“So many questions!” he said. “Found a few, still seeking others. There’s a door off an obscure alley here in Venice that only opens at certain times. So I dropped by you on my way.”
“But how did you know I was here?” I asked.
“Secret wisdom!” he said, and disappeared into the crowd.
NORVAL JOE
Unable to sleep because of the endless pounding on the motel room’s wall, Billbert lay awake as so many questions ran through his head. Had he been older, his first question would have been, how long would their neighbor be pounding the walls? Instead, Billbert wondered, why had they moved to this forsaken, out of the way town? If Nuclear Fission had found his mother before, what guaranteed that she wouldn’t find her here? But, ultimately, the questions that nagged him most were, would Linoliamanda forget all about him and would he ever be able to be with her again?
DUANE
I’m getting tired of so many questions. Just when I think it’s done the process starts all over again.
Who would do such a thin
When did you find out?
What are you doing to keep it from happening again?
Why didn’t you come forward sooner?
How did this make feel?
Wait, where are you going?
My guidance counselor says I still have a week to drop journalism 101. Theater class would be fun, but that’s just more drama. Home ec always smells like cookies when I walk by. Wood shop sounds alright. I could make a cool wooden bong.
JARED
“Is that you, Captain?”
“Do I look like a Girl Scout?”
“Did we wake you from your beauty sleep?”
“What do you think?”
“So, what do you make of this?”
“Is that a clown wig?”
“And how about the feet?”
“Are those ice skates?”
“Notice anything else about the victim?”
“You mean, like the hole in their forehead, or the missing hands?”
“What about the blood?”
“Where is it?”
“Wouldn’t we like to know?”
“So, where did it happen?”
“Would you like to see the next room?”
“Why not?”
“What do you think here?”
“How did it get up there?”
PLANET Z
Trivial Pursuit games contain only so many questions.
It’s possible to memorize all of them in a set.
You can buy more sets, but those can be memorized, too.
Tournaments become nothing more than memorization challenges and lucky dice rolls.
That’s what trivia bots are for.
Millions of questions in a database, too much knowledge to study and memorize.
Unless you’re a trivia bot, too.
Then, you know all the questions and answers.
Which is why we scan for helper devices at tournaments.
No phones. No earpieces.
No ocular or neural implants.
And certainly no loaded dice allowed in, either.