conversations

Two friends, on profiteroles.

Cecily: Profiteroles are rather inspiring in the bedroom, I hear.

Christian: Don’t they crimple up under the pressure ? And the cream ooze out ?

Cecily: Quite right. They’re just fun little metaphors rolling around in our purses, waiting for the right moment to be brought out to ooze.

Christian: You keep profiteroles in your purse? An eclair might be more up your street.

Cecily: Eclairs, in my experience, beg to be eaten as soon as they’re bought. They’re just so damn desirable. But as a sexual presence, they’re too obviously dickish. And dicks aren’t really all that attractive. As a creative, I favour subtlety. Society has hopefully evolved beyond the phallus.

Christian: And so you start referring to testicular metaphors instead. Original.

Two friends, on the country house.

Christian: I live in fear of mutant spiders hiding in my luggage and journeying back to Paris with me from my country house. I rather suspect my gardener, Monsieur Poupée breeds them. And my Dutch lesbian neighbours sell them on the satanic market in Utrecht!

Cecily: The satanic market in Utrecht is the only place I’d want your mutant spiders to be. So, I am grateful for your Dutch lesbians and their industry.

Christian: Monsieur Poupée is an odd one, isn’t he? I didn’t realise he had a key to my house until recently — it’s all a bit Agatha Christie.

Cecily: Your country home is indeed a queer place, with extra queer neighbours, and a feeling that Miss Marple is hanging about in the shadows, ready to swoop in when one of us inevitably goes rogue over too much Bordeaux and boeuf bourguignon.

Cecily, messaging while Marty McFly is in the bathroom.

Cecily: I am on a first date with Marty McFly. He’s wearing a half-denim varsity jacket. He said “Don’t cry for me Argentina”, when he left for the bathroom, and he has a watch with a digital face.

I’m into the weird ’80s/90s vibe, but I do feel like I’m living in a period film. He said I was like Zelda Fitzgerald. So our eras have collided into great making out and digital-faced watches and big vintage hats.

I will likely never see him again, because I can’t deal with someone who says the words “fresh” and “slammin'” un-ironically.

He has a haircut that makes him look like the Karate Kid. Also, he has Warner Brothers characters on his hoodie, and a cute smile. There are white pants and shoes involved, after Labor Day. He continually references Peewee Herman. He uses the Internet, even though personality-wise, it really feels like he shouldn’t.

From his touch, he may be really good in bed. We have a physical connection despite the lack of congruent eras.

Yann and Cecily, on cyborgs.

Yann: While I was in Tokyo, I followed a trail that led me to robotics expert Professor Nakamura. We had a brief talk about subversive experiments led by a group of hardcore Terminator fans. He was shot by an assassin before I could get more answers.

Cecily: Are you a writer, friend?

Yann: Somehow, there is actually not much “official-ness” according to society’s standards when it comes to my ”writing skills”. In essence, I don’t have a job. Now I’m wondering whether that was the coolest or lamest way to announce the unemployment situation. 

Cecily: If you’re happy being unemployed and seeking out Japanese professors skilled in Terminator-style life discovery, then there is no uncool way to announce it.