The Believing Game
Outside, an orange-scarred December evening.
“You’ll pay. Because I will believe your story,” Johnny said.
“For the thousandth time, I do know the bloody rules. Just shut up and listen,” said Lily.
The Moon, sitting at his desk, was clattering away on the keys of an ancient typewriter with a deliberate tenderness. Again and again he raised a mechanical typebar and then let it fall back without allowing it to ever stain the paper with even a single letter.
“Had I made them touch the ink of the ribbon, letting the black lines run, I’d already have filled ten pages!” he said when he noticed Lily, the girl watching him from the half-open door. “I’ve counted.”
“Quite poetic,” she replied, puckering her lips and then walking behind the back of the Moon. On her way, she gave a soft kick to the dog lying beside the desk. (Her wet footprints were visible in the thick carpet even minutes later.)
“You haven’t even read it,” said the Moon feigning callousness and watching the thin dog sidling away from the girl.
“And what would it be about, in case anybody had a chance to read it?” whispered Lily right beside the ear of the Moon. “Sorry,” she added, because while leaning forward to pull out the paper from the typewriter, she almost knocked down the black and white striped, pointy nightcap of the Moon.
“Rebirth control,” the Moon nodded, blinking. His attention shifted from the dog to the pale little star hanging swaying like a tassel on his nightcap. “And with a specific example.”
“Birth control, you mean?” There was nothing interrogative about Lily’s question. “Contraception and everything. And it was not intended as a bad pun, what you said?”
read the rest of this rather weird* story at deviantArt
(for free, of course, and w/o registration :))
*Yep, it’s an experimental one. from 5(!) years ago. Not what I usually write.