Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Please forgive the instant message format, but I didn't feel like fixing it.

There was this book I read once, called "Adverbs." It's by David Handler. It's sort of a collection of short stories that may or may not be related, depending on how you look at it.
There was this one part where some characters were sitting in a diner, and I don't remember anything else except that the author made an association between not communicating what you feel to someone you're trying to talk to and not putting up a sign that you're selling the homemade vegetable soup that you stayed up late making.
I felt so bad for the imaginary, nameless character who no doubt had his or her feelings hurt that nobody wanted their soup, when reallby nobody knew about it at all. All that pain could have been averted with a little handwritten sign. But then what if nobody wanted the soup even with the sign, then they would feel even worse about themselves.
what then?

I think about things way too much. Really, the entire moment lasted about two lines, and I read it like three years ago. And yet, that's the part of the story I remember most vividly.

Why is that?

1 comment:

Allec said...

You reminded me of what I remember so vividly though it makes no sense as to why I remember it...and now, I can't remember it.

When I do, I shall post about it.

But I think it means that that passage spoke to you in one way or another. I like your questioning of it, though, as Freud writes: "Sometimes a cigar is really just a cigar"