Charles: Has my parcel arrived?
Cecily: It has not. Believe me, when it does, you will know about it. I will be so excited.
Charles: But you don’t even know what it is yet.
Cecily: I assume you only ever gift great books and letters.
Charles: Not untrue.
Cecily: I write contemporary, condensed, flash autobiography.
Jean-Claude: You mean you’re on Twitter.
Cecily: I have created whole characters out of hyperbolic metaphor, and written of kaleidoscopes of butterflies without the need for any metaphor at all.
Charles: You are like one of Ayn Rand’s protagonists: a self-interested person that must be unsentimental toward those that rely on you. They need you for their joy. You produce, they consume. Don’t forget that.
Delilah: Women love John Wilmot. Trouble is, I am not a 17th century rake. I’m a tiny female something-o-path with no desire to charm women out of their drawers.
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