Storygram - A Conversation

Derwentwater scintillated underneath the spring sun, ensconced comfortably within the mountain range surrounding it. Cat Bells towered at distance, and rough, serrated peaks enclosed the lake as the gentle lapping of waters echoed across the bowl. Layered under the hollow echoes bouncing in the ether of the lake, there was the sound of two men talking.

“It’s a beautiful day.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It wasn’t easy to get here.”

“Yes, it was quite difficult.”

“Look over there, what do you reckon that is?”

“I don’t know... what do you think?”

“It looks like a rock... it looks like it might be moving, though...”

“Should we go have a look?”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yes. Too much effort.”

They fell silent, skimming stones from the shingled-rubbed edges of the lake. The stones skipped lightheartedly across the waters, content only to fly across the surfaces. But no matter how beautiful their flight, they will finally sink unwillingly into the depths of the water.

The two men watched in silence until they could skim the stones no longer, until the futility of their enterprise made itself known. They begin to speak again.

“She had left me,” said one, “I would try to speak, she would try to speak. We would talk, so many words. But she always said, ‘why are we saying nothing?’”

“There is only silence,” affirmed the other. “Everytime I pick up the phone to call my father, I only have courage for the static sounds...”

“’Static’, that’s what she said. We seem to say nothing, we seem to go nowhere. Static, stagnant, stationary. We keep trying to reach out, but we never seem to meet.”

“He wanted to meet with me. He sent me letters, all asking for me to meet with him, for him to give an explanation. But I can only reply with nothing.”

“In the end, there was nothing. Nothing comes from nothing.”

Clouds lazily scudded across the air, and the anaesthetizing perfumes of overgrown grasses choked the air. Both men stopped their conversation and the hollow-sounding echoes were heard no more.