(obviously Maurício wrote this, i just chose the pic)
The Specialist (a very, very, short story written years ago in London by Mauricio Pereira Pinto)
por João Rosé a Segunda-feira, 10 de Maio de 2010 às 22:07
- You know, I like so many things I never specialised in anything. Could be a doctor or a proper musician, anything, but always got bored with just one subject. Shame, isn't it?
- Nah, not really. You know what you could do? Open a story telling office. You know, you specialised in life. It's like doctors. There's GPs and there are specialists. You're like a life GP. When people feel bored with their lives, and they do, believe me, they can come to you and you tell them a fantastic story. And they'll love it. They will live it a bit through you. Everything they think it's amazing and cool, and they missed out, they'll come to you for that, never realising that they never actually lived it because they were not meant to. And, actually, they wouldn't like it.
- Yeah. Those are the ones that really annoy me. What do they know? When I look at them I think that their life must be cool. They're the ones with the cars, and holidays and that sort of things. They must have more fun than both of us put together.
- Yes, they are the ones with the flats and the nice suits. And the mortgages and the loans. And the wives with sagging tits and the snotty kids, and the beer bellies and the psychiatrists and an endless life of repetition.
They both laughed loud, although they felt they were wasting their time talking about "them" and "us". It all felt so much the same it was funny. If at least there was a football match on. Shame they didn't support any team.
- And their suits are not that nice, anyway.
- Nah, not really. You know what you could do? Open a story telling office. You know, you specialised in life. It's like doctors. There's GPs and there are specialists. You're like a life GP. When people feel bored with their lives, and they do, believe me, they can come to you and you tell them a fantastic story. And they'll love it. They will live it a bit through you. Everything they think it's amazing and cool, and they missed out, they'll come to you for that, never realising that they never actually lived it because they were not meant to. And, actually, they wouldn't like it.
- Yeah. Those are the ones that really annoy me. What do they know? When I look at them I think that their life must be cool. They're the ones with the cars, and holidays and that sort of things. They must have more fun than both of us put together.
- Yes, they are the ones with the flats and the nice suits. And the mortgages and the loans. And the wives with sagging tits and the snotty kids, and the beer bellies and the psychiatrists and an endless life of repetition.
They both laughed loud, although they felt they were wasting their time talking about "them" and "us". It all felt so much the same it was funny. If at least there was a football match on. Shame they didn't support any team.
- And their suits are not that nice, anyway.
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