Rocket to a ghost

The brilliant Journalist: Have you ever had your heart broken?

The Ghost: I've never been in love.

[They look at each other for a long while, without moving any facial muscle at all. Than she smiles]

The Ghost: Of course I have, just like anybody else. Everybody's loved, cried, got a heart broken at some point. What is special is why those things have happened, and how. And "special" doesn't mean interesting for the rest of the world anyways. You have to have or find a reason for doing the things you do, you know...

The brilliant Journalist: Do you have a reason for everything you do?

The Ghost: You know what I saw today? There were a man and a woman sitting in the park, holding around each other. A little kid was running around them. It was almost dark but nobody cared, they all three just tasted the liquid honey of the night slipping down from the sky.

The brilliant Journalist: Do you believe in God?

The Ghost: I haven't slept for three days now, you know. They've kept us awake for a long time in Limbo, we're rebuilding the whole thing. We keep seeing these glass walls where all of our past reflects, running in a loop, day after day. No, why should I believe him?

The brilliant Journalist: I asked if you believe IN Him.

The Ghost : That's a dumb question. And the only reason for which you're asking it is because you're too afraid of answering the question yourself.

[The ghost smiles again]

The Ghost: I'd rather talk about the rugby league.

[But before the brilliant Journalist can think of any brilliant australian rugby-league name, the Ghost vanishes leaving him alone, holding a question mark in the hand. Question marks are beautiful. You can saw them, and wait 'til some question-mark plants grow big in your garden.]

[The silly lyric I'm listening to tonight is "Rocket took a lover", by Bell X1. It does make you fly.]