My final writing for #creativewriting@iralutse.
Thank you, Irina and all the participants, I thoroughly enjoyed myself ))
— Do you think it’s funny? What do you mean you’re going to Mars?
— Ok, for the fifth time, I’m taking part in the mission as a volunteer. You heard me. And I’m not joking.
— Me neither!
— Then what the hell is not clear?
— Mary Wilkinson, you will not talk to me that way and in that language even on the phone, young lady! What’s wrong with you? It’s because of that stupid nuisance with the lottery, I bet it is! I know, this isn’t the first time you got a wild hair, but I swear it’s the most insane!
— I talk to you like this when you’re wrong. You don’t even know the whole story and you don’t seem to care enough to ask.
Look, mum… I’m not trying to upset you. It’s just… it’s just I’m starting to feel sandwiched between the walls of my office. And my boss, you know, is such an ass hole… sorry for my French.
— But it’s a hazard! And what about me, what about your father? I mean if you go, I’m never gonna see you again!
— Come on, mum! “Travelling to Mars” is not synonymous with “die”. Everything will be just fine, I promise. You’ll be so proud of me! Who knows, one day you might come to see me…
Seriously, mum, I’ve always dreamed of being a part of something significant, like, to make a difference. Besides, it’s not happening tomorrow, you’ll have enough time to come to grips with the idea.
How ‘bout a lunch together? We could talk, I’ll answer your questions, or something?
— Oh, I don’t know… I guess we should chew it through with your father… And I didn’t say “yes”, so wipe that victorious smile off your face, Missy! I bet you’re grinning from ear to ear right now. We haven’t finished this talk yet.
— Thanks, mum! You’re not a bad old stick… deep down))
— I’ll talk to you later, mum, see ya))