It’s not fair – Oblak turns to her with tears in his eyes – people
shouldn’t feel guilty about being together…
is less sentimental and more worried, she again found tomato sauce in
the bathroom this morning.
when Oblak dries up she confronts him about it.
I think something’s happening to Rasap – he says as serious as a
marble headstone - I think we did something to him when we hit him on
the head with that axe…
Are you crazy? – Nasha makes an effort to laugh – What are you
Too much fluid around us! – Oblak shows her a printed page – Look,
you said it and now it’s here, now he’s saying it too…
Sure he is – she grins half disturbed – he says everything we make
him say. You write his words…
But I didn’t write this! – Oblak interrupts, pale and serious, not a
trace of mischievousness in him, just weariness.
- Are you kidding me or what? – she picks up the page in disbelief – I mean, I know I said it, but I also know I didn’t write it down, and if you say you didn’t…
- I didn’t…
But how then?
We’ve cut through the story, somehow, through Rasap it got connected
with the real life… - Oblak tilts his head.
Oh, c’mon, you don’t really believe that…
I believe what you believe too, that our stories are real to us no
matter how fictional they are, so – he looks deep in her eyes – is
it so hard to believe that the two of us are as real to our stories, no
matter how actual we get?
this Nasha doesn’t say anything. She reads the page once more, and
reads Oblak’s face once over, but neither provide her with an answer.
Too much fluid around us – Oblak repeats ominously.
the computer screen a thin line of the cursor blinks in anticipation.
Like a spy for the government of another reality, a world ready to break
out first chance it gets. Oblak looks back at the cursor, for a moment
the spy’s cover seems to be blown, but just says:
Besides, look what’s happening to the fools…
nods her head:
- They were doomed from the very beginning.