what this blog is about




The following is a work of fiction set in a very far future. Nothing in it should be taken too seriously…

Friday, August 17, 2012

"But you are not quite certain when you died, yes?"


/
"Excellent." Then Désiré was back in front of Bobbi. "Me, I've been here about two years. Very nice time, I've had. You wouldn't speak French would you?"

Bobbi was doing his best to keep up. "Ah. No. A word or two."

"Pity. I'm trying to find other francophones. That's what I was last time I was alive. I had a most successful public relations agency. With offices in Paris, Ho Chi Min city, and Senegal. Well, for a couple of years, anyway."

He smiled and didn't try to answer. This was all moving much too fast.

"What language did you speak?" Désiré continued.

"English. I was an American."

"Ah, good. I liked America. I went to school there. Got my undergrad degree at a school in your New England. Then an MBA at Boston University."  At that point, he switched from Pantos to English.


Sing her praises loud and true!
We'll fight for our alma mater,
On to sure victory!!
Fight! Fight! Fight!

Then he laughed musically and it was back into Pantos. "BU was very much into International Students. They recruited a lot of us. I loved Boston. The nightlife was sublime! The clubs…magnificent."

He glanced at Bobbi and smiled. "But we talk more of my story later. Tell me, now, about yourself. When did you live? The first time?"


Tell Me About Yourself



Bobbi collected himself. "Ah, early twenty-first century." He mentioned the year of his birth and guessed at the date of his death.

"But you are not quite certain when you died, yes?"

"I, yes. I mean, I'm not."

"It is unsurprising," Désiré assured him. "Sometimes it is very hard to recall the last moments. Particularly if it was unexpected. Or violent. The brain protects you, you see, from such shocks. It may be a very long time before you remember it all."

He took Bobbi by the arm and led him to the chaise. "Me, for instance, I died of violence, too. I had the oh-so-terrific idea of opening an office in Port-au-Prince. It made such sense. A French-speaking country. A developing economy." He sighed, sadly. "And then I am there not a week before the earthquake hits." 

He sat on the chaise and patted the place beside him. "But come, sit, and tell me more of your previous life."







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