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Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
I left the bank with an extra thirty bucks in my pocket and in a better frame of mind. Few things are more mundane than depositing a check, and all the numbers had totaled up nicely and happily like they were supposed to. And hey, maybe he'd be gone.
No such luck, of course, that'd be too easy. He was still in the car, sprawled over three quarters of the seat. He moved when I got in. "So, where to now?" he asked.
"Shouldn't you know? You're the guide on this whatever it is, aren't you?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "I am? It's your car."
"Okay, well, I've got errands to run, then. What's your name? I can't just call you 'You' or 'him' or 'not-Buddah' all the time, after all. Maybe I'll just call you Dante."
He shrugged. "I've had a lot of names. Shouldn't it be Virgil? He was the guide."
I hate the turn out back onto the road from the bank, it's right after the light, but all these people line up to turn, so even on red lights it's a long wait sometimes. "You said you weren't guiding. What's wrong with having just one name?"
"It tells me about you, the name you pick," Dante said, scooting down in the seat.
Some idiot in an SUV sped up and then cut over in front of me, right before we had to stop at a light. "Yeah, that saved you all of five seconds, congratulations," not that the guy in the SUV could hear me, "And I imagine that asking what I revealed about me would just get me some cryptic answer, right?"
"Never know unless you ask," Dante said, "So, why do you have five names, if one's fine?"
I shrugged and flipped the turn signal on. "I've really only got three. Ish. My nickname, which everybody except junk mail and the government uses, and then online names. One because I wasn't very creative, and the other's really a not mine, it's my character's. He's just sorta merged with my online personality, and why am I telling you this?"
"Because I asked," Dante said, "and very few people seem to care what you think?"
Goodwill's parking lot can be a pain to park in when it's crowded, this was one of those times. I had to back out and adjust and straighten the car about three times to avoid hitting anybody. And make sure I stopped soon enough to not have the car smash a headlight on the streetlamp's base. I shut off the engine and looked over at Dante. "Yeah, well. I'd rather you were a cute chick and asking me about life, honestly. You gonna come with me? Probably be a while. Though people might look at you weird, wearing just a sheet."
"Let them," he said, "It won't be a problem. So, do your names matter?"
"Lock the door," I said, "And not really, just as long as I know who people mean."
Dante pulled open the door to Goodwill. Nice trick, for a hallucination. "Not a believer in True Names, then?"
"Not really, no. Not much of a Believer, in general."
Part 1
Tags: Rabbit Hole, Writing
No such luck, of course, that'd be too easy. He was still in the car, sprawled over three quarters of the seat. He moved when I got in. "So, where to now?" he asked.
"Shouldn't you know? You're the guide on this whatever it is, aren't you?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "I am? It's your car."
"Okay, well, I've got errands to run, then. What's your name? I can't just call you 'You' or 'him' or 'not-Buddah' all the time, after all. Maybe I'll just call you Dante."
He shrugged. "I've had a lot of names. Shouldn't it be Virgil? He was the guide."
I hate the turn out back onto the road from the bank, it's right after the light, but all these people line up to turn, so even on red lights it's a long wait sometimes. "You said you weren't guiding. What's wrong with having just one name?"
"It tells me about you, the name you pick," Dante said, scooting down in the seat.
Some idiot in an SUV sped up and then cut over in front of me, right before we had to stop at a light. "Yeah, that saved you all of five seconds, congratulations," not that the guy in the SUV could hear me, "And I imagine that asking what I revealed about me would just get me some cryptic answer, right?"
"Never know unless you ask," Dante said, "So, why do you have five names, if one's fine?"
I shrugged and flipped the turn signal on. "I've really only got three. Ish. My nickname, which everybody except junk mail and the government uses, and then online names. One because I wasn't very creative, and the other's really a not mine, it's my character's. He's just sorta merged with my online personality, and why am I telling you this?"
"Because I asked," Dante said, "and very few people seem to care what you think?"
Goodwill's parking lot can be a pain to park in when it's crowded, this was one of those times. I had to back out and adjust and straighten the car about three times to avoid hitting anybody. And make sure I stopped soon enough to not have the car smash a headlight on the streetlamp's base. I shut off the engine and looked over at Dante. "Yeah, well. I'd rather you were a cute chick and asking me about life, honestly. You gonna come with me? Probably be a while. Though people might look at you weird, wearing just a sheet."
"Let them," he said, "It won't be a problem. So, do your names matter?"
"Lock the door," I said, "And not really, just as long as I know who people mean."
Dante pulled open the door to Goodwill. Nice trick, for a hallucination. "Not a believer in True Names, then?"
"Not really, no. Not much of a Believer, in general."
Part 1
Tags: Rabbit Hole, Writing