First there are the great majority of people with whom
having a conversation is like trying to dig into builders’ rubble. It’s all on
the surface, so you pick among the stones, half bricks and bits of broken glass,
getting nowhere. Eventually you tire of the effort and say ‘well, must be
going.’ And that’s that.
Then there are those who resemble soft sand. Digging is easy
and you feel you’re getting somewhere, but only for so long. Eventually you hit
bedrock and there’s no point in digging further. You say ‘well, must be going.’
And that’s that.
The third group is the special one and composed of a very
small number of individuals. They’re like soft sand, too, but this time there’s
no bedrock. You can dig for as long as you like, but as you get deeper the air
becomes thinner and the light level drops to inky darkness. When you get to the
point of becoming blind, suffocated and confused, you have to hightail it back
to the surface and try again another day. They’re the people I talk to. I don’t
talk much.
(There’s a fourth group, too. They’re the ones who let you
do all the digging while they keep pace and watch in silence. I only know one
person in that group and I’m not allowed to talk to her any more. That’s why I
put it in parentheses at the end.)
No comments:
Post a Comment