Entry tags:
a small work of fiction
DEUX: "And, you say, it just tastes nice? That's all?"
VENCER: "It's a Zero, anyway. Zero sugar. I mean, it's got, like,"
VENCER PICKS UP A CANISTER OFF OF A SMALL NIGHTSTAND AND EXAMINES THE SECTION OF THE PRINTED LABEL DEDICATED TO ITS CONTENTS, BY GRASPING THE CANISTER EXTREMELY CLOSE TO THE EYES.
VENCER: "Uh, like, some sodium. Fifty-five grams of sodium. It's got nothing. Nothing at all."
VENCER ROTATES THE CAN AROUND AND ADJUSTS ITS DISTANCE RELATIVE TO THE EYE.
VENCER: "No calories. No, uh, no dairy. It's like sparkling water, basically. Sodium."
DEUX QUICKLY BRINGS A HAND TO A PAIR OF LENSES, TO PUSH THEM CLOSER TO THE HEAD.
VENCER: "But it tastes nice."
A PAUSE.
DEUX GLANCES TO VENCER'S RIGHT.
VENCER NOTES THAT THE FACE OF DEUX IS SOMEWHAT INDESCRIBABLE.
THE FACE OF DEUX IS ENTIRELY NEUTRAL, OTHER THAN A MILD-MANNERED SHOWING OF TEETH, NOT IN A SMILE NOR A SNARL.
DEUX: "So be it. It's always in interest to experience new things."
THE NECK OF VENCER TWITCHES IMPERCIEVABLY TO DEUX.
VENCER: "Why're you talking about it like it's some esoteric kind of thing?"
DEUX: "Well, everything's esoteric. 'Esoteric' is kind of vague, no? Esoteric is vague, and because everything is or can be made vague in some way, everything is esoteric."
VENCER: "It's a can of soda."
DEUX: "This is true."
