Racist Girl Vol 2. The Conversation

The office, 12th November. Its raining.

The light filters through the blinds even though the rain sleets down giving the impression that it is night time in the office. It might as well be judging by the yawns and apparently lack of personal hygiene amongst the disease ridden staff.

A light flickers for a while before it stabilises. A fat man curses.

RG: Dumb shit. Can't he see that the light isn't the problem, but its his stupid fatness that's making the light flicker?

RD: What the... Are you on drugs?

RG: No, its just that this stupid weather makes me sad. Now I have to sit here, out of smokes, out of inspiration and out of joy.

RD: Wow, that is sad. Do you wanna tell me why you're making me want to cut my wrists?

RG: Not particularly. Don't take this personally, but I don't think you'd ever understand.

RD: Say what now. I'd like to think I can manage to wrap my head around the intricacies that are a woman's mind. (angry he sticks his chest out, possibly to accentuate his manliness or probably to try and mimic female breasts in hope that she will be fooled)

RG: Its not that you're stupid, dumbass... I just don't think you can quite reach my level of understanding. That's not saying you're stupid. Its just that you're not as smart or for that matter even remotely capable of understanding me.

RD: wha........ (his jaw drops to the floor allowing the ants crawling on the carpet to make their final journey into the depths of the unknown)

RG: I mean don't be offended. (she lights her last cigarette that she has been hoarding for the last 20 minutes and blows the first puff of smoke into his face) I don't think you're dumb. Just that I'm really smart.

RD: but I.. er..

RG: These problems are my own and I don't want to burden you. You got enough problems with your lack of friends, bad hair cut and poor social abilities. (she continues to inhale the carcinogenic smoke and tar, all the while letting the still hot ash drift onto the carpet burning the fibres on top)

RD: I think its best I leave now. (He hastily makes his retreat vowing never to go back, but knowing he'll be right back in the same situation by tomorrow)

RG: I'll see you later. (she stubs out her butt and slowly sighs, not too loudly. Her body moves slightly as she shifts to get more comfortable, the stale smell of cigarette smoke cloying, but she doesn't even realise it now, her mind pre-occupied by the unfamiliar thoughts that she never knew she could have - she forces her mind to be blank)

The fat man curses again as the light flickers silently again.

RG: stupid dick.

Volume 3 is on the way to being conceived.