A Lament and a Rebuke
SCENE: A subtropical living room. laurawise sits disconsolate in the rocking chair. The Blonde Dog of the House snores in a theatrical way from her reclining posture on the loveseat.
L: [with each rock] Woe, woe, woe.
The Blonde Dog twitches her ears but keeps her eyes closed.
L: I am mournful.
Blonde Dog: SNORE.
L: I am lost in the depths of gloom, despite the sunshine and the not unpleasant spring breeze wafting through the open windows--
Blonde Dog: SNORE, DAMNIT.
L: I am tired, and frustrated at all manner of lack of progress, as if sinking in quicksand or similar. Also, my neck hurts.
Blonde Dog: Oh for God's sake. [sits up and glares]
L: [unheeding] And neither the lovely new music I've been listening to, nor the scent of a single perfect gardenia perfuming the house, nor our neighbors' orange blossoms sending out delight through the whole neighborhood, nor--
Blonde Dog: I REPEAT. OH FOR GOD'S SAKE.
L: Woe, woe, woe.
The Blonde Dog of the House sighs. With her usual grace she leaps down from the loveseat and crosses the room to nip at L's calf.
L: Dude, you can't herd me. I'm sitting down.
Blonde Dog: [nips again] Shut up shut up shut up. And then take me outside so I can hunt for lizards as the sun sets.
L: [listless] All right.
As they leave the room, the Blonde Dog of the House looks up with a grin.
Blonde Dog: See, isn't this better?
L: To quote you -- shut up shut up shut up.
And, SCENE.
May your week be free of laments and rebukes!
L: [with each rock] Woe, woe, woe.
The Blonde Dog twitches her ears but keeps her eyes closed.
L: I am mournful.
Blonde Dog: SNORE.
L: I am lost in the depths of gloom, despite the sunshine and the not unpleasant spring breeze wafting through the open windows--
Blonde Dog: SNORE, DAMNIT.
L: I am tired, and frustrated at all manner of lack of progress, as if sinking in quicksand or similar. Also, my neck hurts.
Blonde Dog: Oh for God's sake. [sits up and glares]
L: [unheeding] And neither the lovely new music I've been listening to, nor the scent of a single perfect gardenia perfuming the house, nor our neighbors' orange blossoms sending out delight through the whole neighborhood, nor--
Blonde Dog: I REPEAT. OH FOR GOD'S SAKE.
L: Woe, woe, woe.
The Blonde Dog of the House sighs. With her usual grace she leaps down from the loveseat and crosses the room to nip at L's calf.
L: Dude, you can't herd me. I'm sitting down.
Blonde Dog: [nips again] Shut up shut up shut up. And then take me outside so I can hunt for lizards as the sun sets.
L: [listless] All right.
As they leave the room, the Blonde Dog of the House looks up with a grin.
Blonde Dog: See, isn't this better?
L: To quote you -- shut up shut up shut up.
And, SCENE.
May your week be free of laments and rebukes!