When Roy Met Giza: Bruges

Time: 12.15pm

Giza: ROY!

Roy is lying on the hotel bed, sleeping. He doesn’t respond.

Giza is standing next to him. She puts her bag down, and slowly get on top of the bed.

Giza: (whispering) Roy…

He’s still sleeping.

Giza slowly gets on top of Roy. He still isn’t budging. She gets closer to his face. Their lips are almost touching.

Giza: (whispering) Royyyy…

Roy finally moves a little bit, but still isn’t awake.

Giza smiles, and then yells right into his face—

Giza: WAKE UP!

Roy wakes up, and screams.

Giza kisses him right at that moment. Then she starts laughing.

Roy: GOD! GIZA!

Roy is fully awake, sitting up in bed, as Giza rolls around on it laughing.

Giza: Why are you sleeping?!

Roy: Because I’m tired?

Giza: You do realize we only have 18 hours here, right? I have to be out the door at 6am.

Roy: Wait…what? You’re supposed to leave at 6am on Sunday…

Giza: No. That was the old plan. I sent you the updated itinerary like two days ago. I have to be in New York for a photoshoot on Monday, and the only way I could do that was if I take the earliest train from here to Brussels, then fly to London, then to New York.

Roy: I… I didn’t read it. I thought you just sent me the same itinerary twice.

Giza: Well, that’s not my fault.

Roy: (sighs) You’re right, it’s my fault. (pauses) It's like Lisbon all over again.

Giza: And just like Lisbon, we'll make the most of it.

Roy kisses Giza and gives her a hug.

Roy: So… 18 hours, eh? I guess we’ll have to see all of Bruges today.

Giza: I came here with my parents when I was 8. You can see this whole little village in 2 hours.

Roy: Really? So what are we supposed to do for the remaining 16 hours?

Giza: Well… (winks at Roy)

Roy: Okay… what are we supposed to do the other… 14 (Giza gives him a not-satisfied look) I mean 12 hours?

Giza: Well, did you know Mr. I know-everything-about-every-city-I-go-to… that this tiny little town of Bruges is home to Belgium’s 700 beers?

Roy: What? Really?

Giza: Really, really.

Roy: Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!

Giza: (she pushes him on the bed) Yeah, in an hour.

45 minutes later.

Beer #1 of 700.

Roy: Wait, so you were stranded in the middle of Madrid at 4am, with no phone… obviously… and no money… and how old were you?

Giza: Uhm, about 16. Maybe 15. That summer was a bit blurry.

Roy: Wow. So what happened then?

Giza: I got lucky. I found Roji.

Roy: Roji? Is that a place?

Giza: It’s… a person.

Roy: Ah. Okay. What kind of person?

Giza: The male kind.

Roy: Old friend?

Giza: Yeah. Old friend.

Roy: Old friend of the boy variety?

Giza: Uh. Yeah. Old boy-friend.

Roy: Okay. Was he old too?

Giza: Well he was a human who ages. So yes, he was old enough. What’s your point? What you do mean he was old “too”? Inquisitive about my past, are we?

Roy: Did I say that? I probably meant how old was he. English as a second language, you know.

Giza: Oh, please. You studied english as your first language back in Calcutta, since when… since you were 3, right? Don’t try to fool me. You’re trying to say that I’m into older guys? 

Roy: Well, Zainab did mention your boyfriend from high school. How old was he? 25?

Giza: Ronan? He was 24 when we met, so please.

Roy: Ronan? You have an ‘R’ named people... thing... then?

Giza: Roy, my dear Roy, don’t make me start listing out the alphabet.

Roy: Ouch. Okay. You’re right. I don’t want to know that. But… this Roji fellow. How old was he?

Giza: Let’s see. We met when I was 16. He was 17.

Roy: And how long was this… relationship?

Giza: Uh. No, Roy.

Roy: No? Why no?

Giza: We said we wouldn’t talk about our past.

Roy: What? When did we say that?

Giza: Uhm, pretty much right after we met. Remember when you were swooning over me and finding every chance you could to meet me. What was that... last June? So pretty much a… year ago. This week.

Roy: Wow. A year ago? We’ve been… us… for a year?

Giza: Sounds about right. But don’t change the subject. So when you were agreeing with me that we shouldn’t bring our past to our present, you were just doing that to get me to like you?

Roy: I… uh… oh look my beer is almost over.

Giza: (to the bartender) two more please. (to Roy) You’re not getting away with this. Tell me, why did you lie to me?

Roy: I… didn’t lie. I just… changed my mind. I’ve heard people do that when they hit 20.

Giza gives him a look.

Roy: Okay, look. How long could we have really avoided this, eh? Not talking about our past only gives us, what… the present to talk about? We’ve been together for a year! We’ve lived a lot of the present together already. I thought that maybe it’s time, you know, to talk a bit about who we were before.

Giza: (a bit irritated) Not even one beer in, buddy.

Roy: Fine. Let’s do this then. Every beer we have, we ask a question. Whoever finishes first, asks first. How does that sound?

The bartender brings them two (new) beers.

Beer #2 of 700.

Giza looks at Roy, and then at the beers, and then again at Roy.

Giza: You’re on.

Giza downs her beer in 10 seconds. Roy just stares at her in admirable shock.

Giza: Okay! I guess I get to go first!

Roy: You… do, you psycho!

Giza: Before we begin, I’d like to set some ground rules.

Roy: That sounds fair, given that we’re definitely getting drunk and some rules might be necessary.

Giza: Rule #1 - every question must be answered.

Roy: Agreed. Rule #2 - the person who asks the question may not ask a follow up, so the question must be properly asked. Otherwise you wait till your next turn.

Giza: Agreed. Rule #3 - the person who answers must answer truthfully, if you’re caught with a lie, you must forfeit the next question. And take a shot of jager.

Roy: Really? Getting hammered is your goal? We’re already drinking so much beer.

Giza: Are you scared?

Roy: Uh, fine. Okay. Anything else?

Giza: Hmm. Okay. Final rule. #5 - a question cannot be asked twice. So if a question has already been asked, the other can’t ask the same question, even if it’s rephrased.

Roy: Ooookay. Nothing weird about that being a rule. Alright. You start.

Giza: Cool! Okay… hmm… let’s see. Alright. I got one. To whom, how, and when… did you lose your virginity?

Roy: (almost spit-takes his beer) Starting with the big one I see. Aahhhh, now I get why you put rule #5 in there. First mover advantage, miss Giza?

Giza: Is that a question?

Roy: No, no! Alright. You want the truth?

Giza: Unless you want to take a shot, yeah.

Roy: Okay. And you really want to know the… how?

Giza: Well, no… I don’t want the gory details. Just like… set the mood. And don’t make it gross.

Roy: Hmm. Alright. It was this girl. 

Giza: Ah. Interesting.

Roy: You're so funny. It was a girl, yes. I had known her for about, like, 3 months? And we were both a bit drunk. It was a… Saturday? Yeah, Saturday. The weather was… quite warm actually. The time was… about 2am-ish. She started it. She took off my shirt. Then my pants. Then her top. Oh wait, sorry. It was a dress. So yeah, her whole top. Haha. Sorry. And then, well you see… we were in this little shack that didn’t really have a proper roof… and then we…

Giza: Wait.

Roy: Too much? I knew you couldn’t handle it. Maybe we should have a rule about the person who asked the question not being able to take the answer so she must drink a sho…

Giza: When was this?

Roy: Hmm. You want the exact date? I’ll allow this follow up. It was… September 5, 2014.

Giza: That… that was… us.

Roy: What?! Really? Was that you? I guess… you’re right.

Giza: I was… your first?

Roy moves closer to Giza, tries to make eye contact for a second, and then looks away towards the wall behind her, and then moves back into his bar stool.

Roy: Do you think I’m lying?

Giza: Why… didn’t you tell me?

Roy: Ah, sorry, can’t allow that follow up. You’ll have to wait your turn.

Giza: I… but…

Roy finishes his beer.

Roy: My turn! So, will you please, finally, tell me… what’s going on with your parents?

Giza: I… Roy…

Roy: Look, I know it’s something you don’t feel comfortable about. These past couple months, every time their names have come up, you just… change the subject. But I just… hope you can trust me, to tell me. Okay?

Giza: I… yeah. Well, I think they are… not doing great. And I’m afraid it’s not going to get better. I think they might… separate. And… I don’t know what’s going to happen.

Roy looks at Giza, who seems to have lost the color in her eyes. He puts money on the counter, gets up, and gives her a long hug.

Roy: Alright, then. Let’s find another bar and some more beers, shall we?

2 hours later.

Beer #5 of 700.

Giza: I don’t believe you.

Roy: Are you challenging my answer?

Giza: No, but… it can’t be. You were 16… and she offered… herself… to you. And you said no?!

Roy: Well, technically, I was 15, and this was going to be my 16th birthday gift. But it just… didn’t feel right. I wasn’t in love with her. And I didn’t want to… do anything that would… well at least at that point… be a point of no return.

Giza: Man, that’s… I’m impressed.

Roy: Well, that’s what you get for getting me drunk. Embarrassing stories full of unnecessary honesty.

Giza: You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You didn’t feel that it was right. That's a strange level of maturity for a teenage boy. So what did she say when you said no?

Roy: Well, that’s the part where I fucked up.

Giza: Why?

Roy: I sort of broke up with her after that. I mean, I knew I didn’t want to be with her. So it didn’t feel right. So yeah, she got really upset. Called me names. And even though we didn’t go all the way, she started saying that I used her for all the things we did do. It got ugly. So that last year of high school was rough. Got a lot of shit from my guy friends. They didn’t know the whole story so they just started rumors. It… wasn’t fun.

Giza: Wow. I thought my sexual awakening was rough. You, my friend, just made me feel better.

Roy: Oh, that is such a relief (sarcastic tone). Now drink up. The next bar awaits. It’s almost 4pm. Maybe we should actually get something to eat at the next one?

1 hour later.

Beer #7 of 700.

Roy: I really do feel less drunk after eating all those nutella waffles. Don’t you?

Giza: No, baby, you’re still drunk. Waffles do not make you sober if you continue drinking.

Roy: Uhmmm… I’m going to stick to my theory. So is it my turn then?

Giza: You haven’t even started beer #7 so yeah, you still have a question from the last one pending.

Roy: Really? Huh. Nice. Okay. Where is Giza, five… no… ten years from now?

Giza: I… wow… I’ve really avoided thinking about this. I guess I’ll just be… performing somewhere. New York, London, Paris. Anywhere there’s art. And beauty. And chaos. I guess. I don’t know. I’ve tried really hard these past few months, to not think about the future.

Roy: Okay, all that sounds great, but I’m going to call bullshit on that. I don’t believe you. I mean, yeah, I believe that you’ll be in those places, doing amazing things. But I don’t think that’s what you think. Right now. I think you’re lying. I want to know how you really feel when you think about… your future.

Giza: I don’t feel anything.

Roy: Nothing? Come on! Give me a real answer!

Giza: You really wanna know? Well, sometimes I feel like I feel too much. Everything at once. It’s numbing. It’s like I reach some equilibrium where I’m actually not feeling anything anymore. Everything is happening at the same time. My past. My present. My future. It’s all right now. I feel everything, so much so that I feel nothing. Everything is pluses and minuses and… I cancel out. There’s a storm all around me, and I’m at the center, unmoved.

Roy is speechless, unmoved.

Giza snaps her fingers in front of his face.

Giza: Hey! How’s that for a real answer?

Roy: That was… profound. How long have you felt this… unmoved?

Giza: I don’t know, I guess I don’t really think about it consciously, but when you asked me… I asked me… and that’s what came out. So maybe we’ll tally this to the beer making me talk.

Roy looks like he’s somewhere else, thinking something.

Giza: What?

Roy: I… I just… now I’m worried about you.

Giza: Okay.

Roy: Okay? That’s it?

Giza: It’s normal for you to worry about me. It’s not a shocking revelation.

Roy: I’m serious, Giza.

Giza: Yessss, because ssserious people do slur their ’s’es when they say they’re sssserious.

Roy: You’re not listening to me.

Giza: I am!

Roy: You just told me, today, after a year of knowing you, that your parents might be splitting up. That’s the first time you’ve brought them up, ever. Up until today all I really knew about you was that you have a mom and a dad and you’re an only child. We don’t talk when we’re not together so…

Giza: No, Roy… not this again…

Roy: What?

Giza: Don’t make it sound like this no history thing was just my decision okay, you’ve been a consensual partner throughout all of this.

Roy: Yes, you’re right. I have. But… maybe what we thought we were is not who we are now. I mean, people change, right? We’re allowed to change? To grow up? So shouldn’t our… relationship… grow up too?

Giza: Hah (laughs by reflex)… are you saying I’m immature?

Roy: No! I just… like… this whole thing with your parents, it’s a big deal. And I don’t care that you didn’t tell me until now, this isn’t about that. I care that you suffer this stuff silently…

Giza: I don’t “suffer” anything.

Roy: Really? So this whole thing… has no effect on you. At all.

Giza: It’s their life. Not mine. Not yours. I stay out of it. You should too.

Roy: I… okay.

3 hours later.

Roy and Giza are walking (merrily) through the small alleys of Bruges.

Giza: I'd have to say... Budapest. 

Roy: Ah, good choice. That was a fun week. My luggage got lost and I wore your sweater for a full day.

Giza: And I keep trying to tell you that lavender is your color!

Roy: Haha. Funny. 

Giza: What about you? What was your favorite Roy and Giza adventure?

Roy: Hmm. Let's see. I really loved the wine trail we did in Spain. Where was that... Rioja?

Giza: Oh, La Rioja! Si! Yeah, best wine in the world. You were drunk after like 3 tastings.

Roy: And you didn't even flinch after one whole bottle!

Giza: It's my spanish blood. It's part wine.

Roy: Actually, Rioja wasn't my all-time favorite. That would have to be Oxford. 

Giza: What? No! I was sick the whole time.

Roy: I know. I loved it.

Giza: You're crazy! We were stuck in that hotel room all day. I spent more time in the bathroom than I did with you.

Roy: Yeah, but it was nice to just... be... you know? (pauses) Hey, let’s go here.

Roy and Giza are standing in an alley, looking at what looks to be an entrance to a basement at the corner of the street. The sign says “La Trappiste Pub”.

Giza: Is this… a bar?

Roy: Let’s find out, shall we?

They enter the place. It is a bar. A big, old school pub, with about 30 people in it, which looks to be almost its max capacity.

Giza: I am pleasantly surprised.

Beer #8 of 700.

Roy: Should I say sorry about that conversation earlier, one more time, just to be safe?

Giza: I’ll say it too. Just to be safe.

Roy: I mean, if I wanna say it, and you wanna say it, then it just… cancels out, right?

Giza: (laughing) Doesn’t everything?

Roy suddenly shakes his head like he just remembered or forgot something.

Giza: What’s wrong? Having a seizure?

Roy: No! I totally forgot to tell you something!

Giza: What! (trying to match his wavelength of excitement)

Roy: Well, you remember that documentary producer who I emailed about an internship? Like six months ago?

Giza: The one you basically stalked? And then you emailed him every day for a month? Yeah, that rings a bell.

Roy: Well… (smiling)

Giza: No! He filed a restraining order?!

Roy: No!

Giza: Oh, then he replied!

Roy: Yes!

Giza: What did he say?

Roy: Well, first he said that I should stop emailing him. And then he said he read one or two of the 50 articles I wrote that I sent him, and that he was just busy with a shoot in Morocco so he didn’t have access to the internet. And that not only will he give me a three month internship, but if he likes me and I can prove that I’m not certifiably crazy, it might turn into a job.

Giza: AHHH!!! That’s so cool, Roy!

Giza jumps of her seat, hugs Roy, then gives him a long kiss, as the crowd notices and woos. Roy gets a bit embarrassed, then takes a bow, and then the crowd just ignores him.

Roy: Hmm, I guess they only liked you.

Giza: Yeah, it’s okay. I’m used to it. Ignore them. But Roy, this is so exciting! I’m so happy for you. When do you start?

Roy: I… already started actually.

Giza: Really? When?

Roy: Last week. He was in London, and he’s setting up to go to Turkey next week. And he wants me to join him there in a few weeks. Until then, he has me training with his crew in London so I can be ready to help him produce when I get there.

Giza: This… is amazing. How long is the shoot?

Roy: Well, once we start, probably 4 to 6 months.

Giza: Oh. Wow. And you’ll be in Turkey for all of it?

Roy: Yeah, well, actually Turkey is only the first few weeks. Most of the shoot is in South America. Peru and Argentina.

Giza: Oh, wow. You've always wanted to go there.

Roy: Yeah, I'm still having a hard time believing it. 

Giza: Well, alright. (pauses) So this is it, huh?

Roy: I… I’m not following.

Giza: Is this... is this Bruges trip a break up trip?

Roy: What? Why would you say that?

Giza: I mean, come on. You must have thought about it. I mean, it's not like South America is in my travel plans for the next six months.

Roy: I… yeah, but… you’re traveling too…

Giza: For days. A couple weeks at most. Not months.

Roy: I… I know… but… you know I’m done with my degree soon, and then I don’t really have a reason to be in London. And I don’t want to go home. So this… is the best opportunity for me to learn. To become the person I’ve always wanted to be.

Giza: Yeah. Yes. You’re right. And I’m happy for you. I am. I just… didn’t think about... us...  changing.

Roy: That does seem to be the theme of the day.

Giza: Tell me something.

Roy: Yeah?

Giza: Have you never… thought about us… ending?

Roy shifts in his seat, then gets up, moves his seat closer to Giza, and sits down again.

Roy: Is it just me, or are we sober now?

Giza: No, not sober. We’re just on the next level of drunk where you’ve been drunk for so long that you feel like this is the new normal.

Roy: Hmm. Yeah. This is… new alright.

Giza: How is it that we have gone so long without ever having this conversation?

Roy: Because it’s not fun?

Giza: Our fun is starting to come in smaller doses and far apart.

Roy: Uh. Yeah. Foolish to think that the beer would help.

Giza: Oh it does help. Helps in staying truthful. Doesn’t give us enough time to think before we say what we're really thinking.

Roy: The truth is like time. Always changing. And not fun when it's not what you want.

Giza: Look at it this way... we lasted a whole year. Isn't that great?

Roy: You're talking in past tense! I… I don’t want to have this conversation. Not right now. Not today.

Giza: If not now, then when? What did you think would happen? We’ve been doing this weekend getaway thing for so long, it’s become our normal. But I know we’ve also been avoiding it. Maybe avoiding is not the right word. But that urge to make it happen, it’s fainting. I mean just this trip, took us a month to plan. To find the time. Life has come in the way. I thought life was the way, but clearly some things seem to step out of it. And they make you step out of its path. Just a bit at first. Because maybe you can reach it and come back in time. But we’ve done it too many times. And now we’ve stepped out for too long. Too many times. And now the way back to the path is just too much for us to do every time.

Roy: So what then… we just end it?

Giza: Isn’t it better to end when we're actually together? Instead of going through six months of almost seeing each other? I mean, yes, I know you’ll try. I know I’ll try. We’ll email back and forth. But sometimes I’ll be too busy to reply right away, and you’ll be off on some remote location. Instead of asking questions, we’ll just be giving answers. Days will become weeks. Weeks will become… until the day comes when neither of us has anything left to say.  And then just… poof… time ends it for us.

They just sit there. Neither says anything for a minute.

Roy: I don’t want that.

Giza: What?

Roy: I don’t want us to… slowly fade out of each other’s lives.

Giza: Okay. I… then what do you propose?

Roy: Well, first of all, let’s make one thing super clear: I love you. So points to me for… saying that… right off the top.

Giza: Yes, points.

Roy: So, let’s just lay out the facts on the table. Okay?

Giza: This table?

Roy: I mean, it’s right here, so yeah, right? Would be rude to go do this on the neighbors’ table.

Giza: Yeah, you’re right. Too Let’s stick to this one. Okay. Continue.

Roy: Alright. Let’s say, this beer, my beer, what was it again? Ah I forgot the name. At this point I only remember the percentage alcohol in each beer. They put it up on the board in that big font. Like, yeah, we get it, we are in control of how drunk we get. Thanks, people who want us to get drunk but also want to dare us to try the higher percentage beers…

Giza: Focus…

Roy: Yes, right. So my beer here... 6%... is me. And your beer... (looks at the board above the bar) 7%… is you.

Giza: I’m following it so far.

Roy: So these two beers, they are great together. Two very good looking beers, who have some extremely good looking sex.

As he says that, Roy takes both glasses in each hand, and makes them dance around each other, making them do a soft cheers as he makes kissing sounds. Then, after doing that for a couple seconds, he pours a little bit from one glass into the other and vice versa.

Giza: Easy there, R-rated Wes Anderson.

Roy: What?! I’m just personifying the act of love!

Giza: Yeah but now my beer is all… mixed up.

Roy: Yeah baby, but that only means that the next time you drink it, there’ll be a little bit of me in you.

Giza: Ew. Maybe you’re making this ending conversation a lot easier now.

Roy: (laughs) Okay, okay, let’s get back to the table. Okay, so right now our biggest problem is that… (moves the two glasses far apart) we, by default, are just always away from each other. And when we’re far apart, we don’t talk unless it’s about making plans to see each other, because it’s just too hard... and we’re both on the same page about that, right?

Giza: Right. Yes.

Roy: Okay. And then, when we do meet... (moves glasses closer together, almost touching) we have a great time... and I won’t do a recap of what I did earlier to save time.

Giza: If you want that to actually happen tonight, you’ll skip that part.

Roy: Right. So now, for the next six months, we’re pretty much only going to be (moves glasses to the opposite sides of the table) far apart.

Giza: That’s a great recap. And nowwww you’ll present your solution?

Roy: Well, it’s not really a solution, I mean when I said I had an idea, this glasses thing was all I had set up…

Giza: Roy… (getting frustrated)

Roy: BUT… I did do some multitasking when I was doing this whole thing and something did come in my head.

Giza: Good. For your sake.

Roy: What if…

Roy moves the glasses a bit more, seems confused, continues to move them around for a few more seconds, then…

Roy: I… (lets go of the glasses, and holds Giza’s hands instead) I’m not really sure about what I’m doing.

Giza: (sighs) Me neither.

Roy: And… just because we don’t know the right answer… doesn’t mean breaking up is the right one, right?

Giza: That… logic is foolproof. Beerproof, even.

They laugh, quietly.

Giza: I know one thing I’m sure of.

Roy: What’s that?

Giza: I’m exhausted.

Roy: Oh god, me too.

Giza: I mean, it’s barely 10pm. We’ve seen everyyyyything. This town is so nice but soooo small. We’ve pretty much been to every museum and bar they have.

Roy: Wanna head back to the hotel?

Giza: And watch Netflix?

Roy: (smiling) Sounds perfect.

Roy puts his arm around Giza, as they start to walk out of the bar.

Roy: We’re picking up some more beers though, right?

Giza: Duh. We still have almost eight hours. We need to at least hit double digits on our beer count.

Roy: Wait.

Roy walks back to their table, and finishes his beer.

Roy: My turn to ask a question.

Giza: (smiling) Go ahead.

Roy: Do you love me?

Giza: Right now? Yes.

Roy: What about tomorrow?

Giza: No follow ups allowed.

Roy takes Giza’s beer and chugs it.

Giza: Hey!

Roy: Tell me. Tomorrow?

Giza walks over to Roy, gives him a kiss on the cheek, put her arm around his waist, and as they walk out of the bar, she says…

Giza: I’ll let you know when it gets here.

To be continued in the final chapter of this unwanted prequel series to The Night After The Wedding...

When Roy Met Giza: Dresden

Coming in… November? Maybe. I'm not sure. Could be next week. Don't trust my estimates.

Tick-tock.

Update on December 17, 2017: Dresden is now available to read. Click on the link above.

Author’s Long-Note

Hello my dear reader. I’ve missed you, terribly. I hope you missed me too. Or least noticed that I was gone for a while. Now, in case you have been following me (virtually, on Launchora, although if you do follow me in a literal way you’ll know what I’m about to say anyway), you would have noticed that I haven’t published anything in almost three months... 90 days, to be exact. I mean, I actually felt physically sick as I wrote that sentence. I hope you can forgive me. Because I have forgiven me. It wasn’t easy, self-forgiveness is never easy. But I got through it. To tell you the truth — not that anything up until this sentence wasn’t the truth — I haven’t published anything in so long for 2 reasons —

1) In order to publish something, I would have had to write something, and I barely wrote during these 90 days.

2) I didn’t write much because I felt guilty, because Launchora has been taking all of my time (ICYMI, we unveiled a new thing called LSP, nbd), and I’m happy to put in all of my time, but it came at the expense of spending time on myself and my stories, and it pretty much came to a point where every time I thought about writing I would think “Well, I really should just get started on that next task…”

But I’m all okay now. At least for the moment. You see, even when I’m not writing, I’m reading! Reading your stories. And now I’m talking to you too, through our new weekly podcast called Storytalking (which is also a part of LSP, smooth callback / self-promotion, nbd). So even when I’m not “writing”, I’m still experiencing stories. Best job ever.

And now you’re asking (I know you have this question so I’m just getting to it myself) “If you didn’t have the time to write, why is this long-awaited 3rd part to the Roy and Giza series here?” Well, funny story — I turned 28 recently (thank you for that ‘happy birthday’ I just made you murmur under your breath, not a weird thing to say to your phone screen at all), and my body is starting to send me signals when it believes I’m not paying attention to myself. See, I believe that I have this condition called the 'not-writing stress' — it’s that thing where your body says it won’t function unless you write something. You haven’t had that yet? Oh, wait till you turn 28. It’s brutal. It’ll be 4am and you won’t be able to sleep until you write what you think is a great line about how Wes Anderson would direct a sex scene. And then when you’ve written it, you’ll actually thank your body for giving you this stress because without it you wouldn’t have written or published anything. 

But let me give you another piece of unsolicited old person advice (I’ve been giving a lot of these since I turned 28, have I mentioned that number twice now? I might have a problem with aging) — don’t let your body stress you into writing. It’s not healthy. There should really be a charity to help people who suffer from this condition. 28 year olds (totally cool with my age btw) who run storytelling platforms and complain about not getting enough time to write. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Anyway, this author’s note is turning out to be longer than the actual story. My point is this — I am trying to write more. Creativity is a really fun thing to do, but when we stop doing it, it starts to fade away (this is a real problem, after the age of 12, we only use 2% of our creative potential and it only declines from there). So don’t become me. Write. Write. Write. And make me write write write. And make your parents your siblings your friends your teachers your pets your baristas write write write. 

Because if you’re writing, you’re not decaying.

I mean, technically, you are. I aged hours while writing this thing. But when you're writing, you're creating something new that didn't exist before, and that's better than decaying, isn't it?

Okay, maybe this aging thing is getting to me.

Also, tell your mom you love her. Say it once every 3 days. No more than that. You don't want to spoil them, right? But do it, because it'll make her smile every time. And smiling is a great way to slow down and altogether stop caring about this decaying process.

Happy writing,

Lakshya.