19AD8 | A Short Story: Simple
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A Short Story: Simple

*This story is entirely a work of fiction.*

She said to me, “You’re a piece of shit, I hope you know that. And what are you working on anyways?”

I responded casually and quickly, “Thanks. And I don’t know, I think that the mind’s capabilities of dilating time could be comparable to the ideology around time relativity. So I was thinking that approaching new theories that way might help people to understand neurophysiology and the neural network from a completely different viewpoint. There are a lot of similarities, abstractly. People dilate their own time quite often, without realizing it.”

She decided to neglect the postulation that I made and responded quietly, “Other than today, do you know what the last text I got from you said? And it was a long time ago…”

I placed my pen down, stopped writing, looked at her and said, “No… but I’m sure that you’re going to tell me…”

She searched through her phone for a few moments and then began to read the text attempting to show dissatisfaction over my dialect, but also while not trying no to laugh, “And I quote… verbatim, “How much it is to get you in one of my movies?”

I responded, “Really? I said that?”

She tried to not smile and said, “Yes. Not to mention it was at like 7:30 in the morning…”

I wrote a few words down on a piece of paper and then said, “Eastern standard or Pacific standard time?”

She looked un-amused and said, “Pacific.”

I confidently responded, “Oh, well that’s not that early then.”

And then she said, “And don’t speak science to me.”

And then I said, “You asked me what I was thinking about…”

And then she said, “Don’t even look at me…”

And then I said, “Woman, I ain’t even looking at you right now.”

And then she said, “Don’t call me woman and don’t even pretend to look at me.”

And then I lightened my tone of voice and said, “Woman, you know how much I’m pretending to look at you right now…”

She started giggling and under her breath whispered, “Time dilation… right. This is why it is impossible to be frustrated with you, you’ve always got the correct words to say.”

I was slightly offended by her response and said, “Why would you be frustrated with me?”

She folded her arms, looked outside of the window and then said, “You don’t even make movies, Avi.”

I responded without hesitation, “Yes I do.”

She responded with the utmost boujee tone of voice, “Oh really? Where might I have seen one of your movies before?”

I then looked over at her eyes with pinpoint accuracy and said, “Every time you close your eyes while listening to one of my songs.” 

She quickly blushed and that’s when I knew that I got her reel good.

There was a very awkward silence for a few minutes and then she jubilantly said, “That’s music. How can I act in a music movie?”

I smiled and said, “First you need to be able to act good. Then, I take the most potent and important sounds from your heartbeat and put them in my movies.” She warmly smiled. The type of smile where she also had her eyes closed and then softly said, “You really are a genius.”

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