friends

Two friends, on a spider.

Arnaud: I have the biggest of the big spiders in my hotel room. It’s 10cm in diametre…

Cecily: Did you measure him? Maybe you can catch him in a jar and pin him behind a picture frame like a scientifically mounted butterfly.

Arnaud: I just called the hotel staff. The spider is now a crêpe.

Two friends, on the doctor.

Cecily: I was looking at wedding rings this morning.

Arnaud: Why?! Butterflies’ fingers are too thin for rings dear. You must be ill. Go and see a doctor.

Cecily: I need a ring. What if I get old and nobody loves me enough to keep me company, and all I have left is old copies of Vogue magazine and thoughts about what could have been if I had shared my life with somebody? Maybe the doctor will marry me…

Alexander, on old authors.

Alexander: I keep reexamining the words of old authors I love in the hope of finding some semblance of clarity and comfort in their familiarity; yet it’s all for naught, and my ongoing stare-down with the Void has become more treacherous than ever.