After the voice rescued me from Lou’s cloud of demonic darkness, the tall, thin man figured I might as well get to know Lou in person and so we all sat at a table with the red-headed writer (though Aurelia had to leave when her phone told her to stop lollygagging and get back to work). The chitchat took some time to unravel its yakkity yarns making a way to my invisible friend, but when it did I had to concede to every skeptic at the table – which was all of us – that I never actually saw the voice nor did I even know his name.
The Bartender brought coffee and desserts and the chitchat resumed until it ended abruptly when Lou, wanting to get to the bottom of the mystery without wasting any more time, insisted that I, Tell that silent voice of yours to say something. I then heard the voice speak one word, Something, the minimum that Lou asked him to say.
From the expressions on the faces of those sitting with me at the table, I realized that none of them heard the voice and so I told them what the voice said. Looking at Lou look back at me I could tell he thought I was too far gone, too mental, too whatever and therefore harmless no matter how hard his terrified cloud of demonic darkness tried to convince him otherwise.
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Denise offers the prompt word “yarn” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Stories.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 