Sort Of
December 6th, 2020
Starring: A & B (middle aged)
Two park benches. A sits on the far right side of the right bench, B sits on the far left side of the left bench. A is mid-story:
A
—I was in the teacher's lounge, making tea before my last period. Lipton green. The TV was on, but mute. I remember the headline flashing across the screen, and feeling it hit me. This flattening—like my stomach getting ironed out. So I left. The tea steeping, the TV on, my entire AP class waiting in my classroom. It sounds reckless. But I couldn’t not. It was primordial. Like how animals know something’s going to go down before it really goes down? I just had to go. So I got in my car and got on the highway. The traffic was bad already. There were other animals on the road whose instincts hadn’t failed them either. But I got ahead of it, the real highway pandemonium everyone remembers. I still sat there for 45 minutes, no radio, hands gripping the wheel, just thinking “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”
I got home. Locked the doors, windows, checked my pantry. I took a shower, made some tea again, called my father.
I was going to be ok. I made that promise to myself. Everything was going to change, but I was going to be ok.
And I was.
Am.
Sort of.
…
...
So where were you?
B
Hm?
A
Where were you? When it happened?
B
Uh
I don’t...I don’t really know.
A
You remember when it happened?
B
Sure I remember.
A
But not where you were?
B
No.
…
What’s wrong?
A
I’m just surprised. It was such a big moment, I thought everyone would have an anecdote.
B
Yeah, I don’t think I do.
I had to be doing something. Nothing that memorable, clearly.
A
I guess.
...
Don’t you want something, though? A little piece of history you can hold onto, tell your grandkids about?
B
Probably.
I guess I’m not too focused on the future at the moment. Save the energy for the now.
A
Stories are therapeutic.
B
But if I can’t get through this, there’ll be nothing to tell.
…
A
Are you ok?
B
I’m like you. Sort of, whatever that means.
A
Can I do anything?
B
What’s there to do? You’re here, I’m here, living out our different sorts of sort of. We’re where we should be, as far as I’m concerned.
Are you concerned?
A
Hm?
B
Are you concerned about me?
A
You? No.
It’s everything else. What it’s doing to you. Me. Everyone.
B
Hard to comprehend. It’s why I’m not worried about the story.
A
Why?
B
Because I’m living it.
That’s enough for me.