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Calling up on the antique telephone so late, "Who has a house phone anymore?" The old thing rung so loudly a room with no walls could have echoed it.
And surprise to her, was a common occurrence, it happened so often it stopped being surprise a long time ago and became common occurrence. Surprise has lost it's definition to custom much like humans lost their humanity. And it's hard to exist, in an inverted world where surprises are humdrum and humans inhumane. Then you slowly begin realize that with the passing of time everything can lose it's definition to the actions of people, to custom, and to habit.
-Human:(adv) 2. of or characteristic of people's better qualities, such as kindness and sensitivity-
If humans are too inhuman to fit their definition, does that mean we're not human, and if so then what exactly are we?
We are people.
Because humans are always people but some people aren't human.
So if someone ever comes to ask you, "Are you even human?" You can say, "No." And mean it.
But for only and instant that night common occurrence became surprise again like the flick of a switch, and it's amazing how easily it's done but still people do not change. She answered the phone, when a shallow susurrus of a voice came thought on the other end.
"How has he been."
And the voice wasn't human.
The boy's been in struggle since 8th grade, when he tried to breath life into a dead heart and failed. When the glass you spread around his beaten soul got stuck in his feat and bled him dry, leaving red footprints as he went. And he's been pondering life since age 9 when you left him. Mind lost in the land of the gone.
When he came to a dead end in his thinking life was pointless.
And most happy stories start with "once upon a time," but this one didn't, it started with "Calling."
So he's dead now,
But he died human.
"Good." She would say.
But she lied, and the monster at the other end of the phone hang up.
Saturday she would call up the company to have her number changed.
Saturday she would stop by the headstone too, and place white roses upon it. White can mean many things, purity, light, but in this instance it meant death.
It's funny how God does things. Like grouping death with light. And it's funny how people blame him for things he did not do but only watched. She blamed him for his death when he was the one how tied the noose, not God. Was it his fault he watched?
Maybe God's a sadist, she would think. But it's okay though, to be misled, she was only human and watching isn't a sin, is it? Maybe. But God isn't human.
Humans can make mistakes.
Humans can be imperfect.
Even when she told her best friend she was "Good." That day of her sons funeral, when she emerged red eyed from the bathroom. Even when her lover of 11 years left her for the bottle on a rainy day, and she said she was "Good."
And she kept her emotions bottled up too long they could no longer breath oxygen and died.
Humans ARE imperfect.
Humans can lie too, just like people. And she was human.
Even though she's told a thousand lies like "Good."