All in Fiction
Esther was never one to pay attention. Always the wanderer, Charles would say. As the two sat in the drawing room on their red velvet chairs, facing the fireplace with its elaborate mantelpiece, he occasionally noticed Esther glance at her Hamilton diamond watch, but not for the sake of admiration.
If not for the lack of blandness, oat meal would be OK. I think that’s probably why people use toppings; berries, yoghurt, sugar, and cinnamon. Seems like self delusion to me but what do I care. Healthy…unhealthy, doesn’t make much of a difference once we get to splitting hairs.
Thanks to my father, my childhood was filled with trips to the zoo. Ever-fascinated by the diversity, he found the zoo to be an amalgam of unique creatures to explore and study. That's what I loved most about my father, his endless love for all forms of life.
“Can you please stop chewing so loudly.”
I shoot a contemptuous glance at Adrian, begging the fresh coffee he sips to scald his vocal chords useless. I throw him a crooked smirk and take my next bite with exaggerated caution, as if his words had put me on mute…
While speculation in fiction sometimes turns out to be correct and sometimes not at all, it’s value is not in predicting the future as such. Rather, fiction can help us imagine things differently, to see our world, and our present, in a different light.
