‘You know when you’re having an imaginary conversation with someone and you know exactly what they need to say for your dialogue to make sense?’

‘No.’

‘—you were meant to say yes…’

‘Well, but I don’t kno—’

‘Yes, yes, I know you don’t know, but it would’ve worked much – whatever, doesn’t matter. Have you got it running?’

‘Got what running?’

‘Got wha— the engine, what the fuck else?’

‘Oh, uh, dunno.’

‘Will I check then?’

‘Sure.’

‘Nope, still nothing. You’ve been fiddling with that thing for an hour now, how’s it still broken?’

‘Dunno, just been flipping this bit the whole time.’

‘Flipping? Flipping what bit?’

‘This bit.’

‘That’s the fuel cap. Do you mean to tell me you’ve been flipping the fuel cap for the past hour?’

‘Yeah, like this.’

‘So you’ve been wasting the past sixty minutes of my life? I thought you said you knew what you were doing?’

‘I said I liked cars.’

‘AAAAAAAAA—’

‘Alright, alright, cool your engines. I’m just fucking with you. Here, try it now.’

‘Fuck, it started. Fuck, it works! Why do you do this to me? Why? My poor blood pressure.’

‘Because it’s too easy, and you need to make it harder. And I have to entertain myself somehow, with you spending all the air talking about your nonsensical pseudophilosophies.’

‘Fine, whatever. Can you just get in? I want to get home before sundown.’

‘One second, I think I’ve lost the route.’

‘What do you mean you lost the route?! I don’t know how to get there from here!’

‘Again, fucking with you.

Just like the imaginary dialogue.’

22.XII.22