'What does that little red light on the dashboard mean?'
'That the brakes don't work.'
'Oh.'
'Oh look, that man's driving with his dog on his lap. Or perhaps the dog's driving. No, that's not very likely, is it? More likely that he's pretending to drive. Yes, that would be it.' (I don't need anyone else to have a conversation.)
'What's the word for ...? Oh I can't remember what it is that I wanted the word for. I think it was to do with the long dark night of the soul blog post I was composing in my head.'
.....
'Oh I've remembered the word: it's literary device. Term not word. I think that's a term. But now I can't remember in what connection I wanted it.'
2 comments:
I've given up talking to myself in the car. Now, I either complain about other road-users, or I sing!
It's the only place I feel safe in singing, knowing that no-one can hear me.
But I am a tad concerned about the red light on your dash - you should definitely have that checked out!
I could be Tina herself when I start singing in the car, jay. In the hearing of others it appears I turn into a bullfrog.
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