Photo by krosseel on Morgue File.
Write a post that includes dialogue between two people — other than you. (For more of a challenge, try three or more people.)
So, what do you think about the state of things, Allen queried?
The state of what things, Sam asked in a bewildered tone?
You know, the state of things, anything . . . all things, everything, you know in general, was Allen’s reply.
Well, I am not sure I can speak to such a broad subject as that, Sam answered, I mean, that would cover an awfully lot of ground. I don’t think such an assessment is humanly possible.
Why nonsense, I know many people who do just that, and even more, all the time.
Let me get this straight, Sam said, You know many people who talk about everything all at once! You know people who, not only talk about everything, but who have some opinion or another on every possible thing?
Why yes, Allen said matter-of-factly, And, not only do they talk about all of it and offer opinions on all of it, but they seem to have some insight to it all.
You are kidding, right? I mean, you cannot actually think anyone, save someone omniscient, being able to speak intelligibly to any and all subjects.
Well, I did not say they spoke intelligibly, only that they spoke with insight. You know, I mean they have something interesting to say about it. I mean, I may not agree with much of any of it, or even understand the half of it; but, at least they can carry on about it for several minutes, Allen offered.
Well, you must know quite different people than I, Sam said with a chuckle, Because, the people I know certainly couldn’t speak to everything.
Perhaps you need to hang around more informed and better mentally developed people then, Allen said with a smirk, Because this sort of thing is not at all uncommon; in fact, I would say most people do it.
Sam stared at Allen for a few seconds, half expecting him to burst out laughing . . . but, he didn’t. Sam, a bit dumbfounded, decided to try and bring the conversation to a close; he could tell he was getting nowhere with Allen, and besides, his head was beginning to ache. Allen, exactly who are these people you are referring to anyway? I mean, you and I know some of the same people, none of whom I would surmise could or would offer up insight to everything conceivable known to man or angels.
What do you mean, who are these people, Allen asked in a huff? You know, people, all sorts of people . . . many people, all kinds of people, you know people in general.
Uh, yes, well, could you offer, just to humor me, a name or two of these so-called well-informed, mentally superior chaps, Sam questioned?Names? You want names? Seriously? I mean, who do you think I am, I don’t keep up with all that sort of stuff. I just pass along stuff, I don’t name names and take notes. Besides, ask around and I am sure anyone will tell you that they are one of those people.
Are you, Sam asked wryly?
Am I? Am I what? Allen said in an agitated tone. Am I one of those people you mean? Well, I have never thought of it in that way to be absolutely honest with you. But, now I’m not trying to brag or anything, but I like to think I am fairly well-informed about things.
Sam scratched his head, But Allen, that is just it, no one can speak with insight, or intelligibly or whatever else about literally everything! I mean, even the most ingenious amongst us can’t do that. Everyone has their limits. Everyone is ignorant about some things, if not many. And that’s okay. No one should be expected to know everything about everything, only God knows something like that. I mean, just because people offer opinions on something doesn’t mean they have the foggiest clue as to what they are talking about! For all you know, they may just be blowing smoke out of their rump! Or, they may just be regurgitating what they heard someone else say . . . some so-called expert, or a friend or some long-winded talking-head on TV.
Allen sat for a moment, glancing at Sam and the floor in rapid fire succession. Well, I see now why the two of us never talk about anything important or mentally stimulating. You just have to be so exact about everything. I have an idea Mr. Smarticus, why don’t you loosen up a little bit and instead of being so literal and specific, let your crummy hair down every once in a while and hang out with the masses; you know, with those people you don’t seem to know, and maybe you will have a little more exciting life. If nothing else, at least you will be better informed about the world going on around you that you seem to be completely oblivious to!
Allen abruptly got up from the break room table, slammed his hand on the table (seemingly for dramatic effect), pivoted on his left toes, spun quickly round and walked out the break room door.
Sam, still staring at the table that had just been palm slapped, was trying to figure out exactly what just happened and why he allowed himself to be sucked in to such a monotonous and useless conversation like that. Maybe I am the nutty one, Sam thought to himself, Maybe THEY are right, maybe I will learn one day not to try and reason with the likes of Allen and all his well-informed people.
As Sam left the break room to head back to his shift, he spotted Allen standing in a back hallway, muttering to himself, or the wall, Sam was not quite sure which. Whatever Allen was saying, he seemed to be pretty heated about the whole thing. Sam thought he may need to say something; but then he thought better of it and just kept walking.