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Dialogue
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2024 by Walter Reimer
Prompt: ecstasy
“I’ve been thinking,” the Muse said.
I gave her a look over my glasses, my ears swiveling. “Bad thing to do,” I said. “I started thinking once, and – “
“See what happened to you,” the Muse giggled. She’d adopted a Kashlanin aspect for the day, a vir no less. I anticipated getting a stiff neck from looking up at her. Still, she had a nice figure. “Heard it before. I was thinking about ecstasy.”
“Oh, like that’s better. Don’t do drugs; drugs’re bad, mm’kay?” I said in a flat, nasal voice.
The vir’s tail wrapped around my arm and yanked me out of my chair. Why did I give them prehensile tails, I’ll never quite fathom. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she said tartly.
“So what do you mean?” I asked, disentangling myself from her tail. Of course I sneaked in a nice squeeze of her butt; I’m crazy, not dead. “I’m not exactly in a state of transcendent happiness right now.” And it’s true; it’s a very gray morning, and I’m fighting a cold.
I ended up in bed, blankets piled high, and the vir was now dressed in a scanty nurse’s uniform. “No,” she said, “I was thinking of the original.”
“Ekstasis?” I asked. It’s all Greek to me.
She nodded, although I didn’t build their necks to do that. “Yes, the feeling of being outside one’s self.”
“Ah.” I’ve had that sensation a few times in my life, and it’s always a little disorienting. I recall one time at work when I was arguing with an inmate and had the sudden sensation that I was actually standing a couple yards away, watching me argue.
Jarring.
“So?” I asked.
“In a way,” she said carefully, “that’s what these conversations are, aren’t they? You’re using a state of ekstasis as a writing conceit.”
“True,” I admitted, “but it’s a fairly harmless conceit, as such things go. Now, are you going to shift into something a little smaller and more cuddly?”
The Muse thought it over, nodded, and a slightly chubby gray tabby cat snuggled up with me.
I scritched her ears before blowing my nose. I hate seasonal colds, and I’ve been fighting this one for a week now.
end
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2024 by Walter Reimer
Prompt: ecstasy
“I’ve been thinking,” the Muse said.
I gave her a look over my glasses, my ears swiveling. “Bad thing to do,” I said. “I started thinking once, and – “
“See what happened to you,” the Muse giggled. She’d adopted a Kashlanin aspect for the day, a vir no less. I anticipated getting a stiff neck from looking up at her. Still, she had a nice figure. “Heard it before. I was thinking about ecstasy.”
“Oh, like that’s better. Don’t do drugs; drugs’re bad, mm’kay?” I said in a flat, nasal voice.
The vir’s tail wrapped around my arm and yanked me out of my chair. Why did I give them prehensile tails, I’ll never quite fathom. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she said tartly.
“So what do you mean?” I asked, disentangling myself from her tail. Of course I sneaked in a nice squeeze of her butt; I’m crazy, not dead. “I’m not exactly in a state of transcendent happiness right now.” And it’s true; it’s a very gray morning, and I’m fighting a cold.
I ended up in bed, blankets piled high, and the vir was now dressed in a scanty nurse’s uniform. “No,” she said, “I was thinking of the original.”
“Ekstasis?” I asked. It’s all Greek to me.
She nodded, although I didn’t build their necks to do that. “Yes, the feeling of being outside one’s self.”
“Ah.” I’ve had that sensation a few times in my life, and it’s always a little disorienting. I recall one time at work when I was arguing with an inmate and had the sudden sensation that I was actually standing a couple yards away, watching me argue.
Jarring.
“So?” I asked.
“In a way,” she said carefully, “that’s what these conversations are, aren’t they? You’re using a state of ekstasis as a writing conceit.”
“True,” I admitted, “but it’s a fairly harmless conceit, as such things go. Now, are you going to shift into something a little smaller and more cuddly?”
The Muse thought it over, nodded, and a slightly chubby gray tabby cat snuggled up with me.
I scritched her ears before blowing my nose. I hate seasonal colds, and I’ve been fighting this one for a week now.
end
Category Story / Abstract
Species German Shepherd
Size 98 x 120px
File Size 44.9 kB
Listed in Folders
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