Beckett Writes

Then I suppose we shall have to wait even longer to get something from Simone, said The VeloDrone. Is there anything from our friend Beckett?

No, said Belle et Bonne. Oh no, wait, yes there is.

She began to read Beckett's email, to herself. She smiled.

Come on, come on, said The VeloDrone impatiently. What does it say?

It must be his article for Velosophy, said Belle et Bonne. And I'm in it!

You! said her papa! Read it out.

She began to read:

I'm in a room, and I am not alone. At least, I am not alone at this point of time. At another point of time I may have been here alone, for it seems familiar. But it is pointless to be thinking about other points of time at this particular one.......

Good heavens! cried The VeloDrone! Is it all like that?

No, said Belle et Bonne, not all. I'll skip those parts and get to the bit about me....

....A man is showing me around, a man purporting to be my friend, he wants something, I pretend that I remember him, now I think I really do remember him, he is a writer and he rides a bicycle. We went to university together, no, when I think more specifically about it, that was Joyce, not this man, who is much older. In the corner of the room a young woman is looking at a box.....That's me papa! A young woman!

And I suppose that's me, said the VeloDrone. An old man. That's rich from a man who thinks a computer is a box.

I'm sure he doesn't mean it, said Belle et Bonne. Now listen to this:

She looks at me, becoming concerned about a certain stiffness in my leg. I may have mentioned it to her in passing. She asks me how I manage to ride my bicycle with a stiff leg, this being in her opinion an impediment that would be hard to overcome. I reply that it is no impediment at all, that when I wish to mount my bicycle, which by the way is an old fashioned green bicycle with a rubber horn, I merely attach my crutches to the cross bar, rest my stiff leg on the projecting front axle, and pedal with the other. She seems dissatsified with this. Perhaps because I did not explain it to her as fully as I have indicated. I may in fact, have promised to explain it to her at some later date. Yes that would explain her look, and so it may be that is what I did....... don't you love it, papa?

Hum, said The VeloDrone. Is that it?

I think so, said Belle et Bonne. It stops there. But he hasn't signed it or anything.

Typical, said the VeloDrone. We can't be sure it's finished. Still, the bicycle is in it. Let's publish!

A Coincidence

That Samuel Beckett was a strange man, said Belle et Bonne, the following day. Did you notice, papa, that he didn't have a limp.

That's Samuel Beckett for you, said The VeloDrone, comfortably. Sometimes he limps, and sometimes he doesn't. It's something to do with existentialism, or absurdism. Or is it post modernism? I'm never quite sure of the difference.

It's something to do with not telling the truth, said Belle et Bonne, disapprovingly. I'm not looking forward to his story.

But you told him you were, observed her papa.

Belle et Bonne ignored this remark.

I don't know why you chose him to be the next contributor, she said. My friend Simone will be sending us her story soon.

Simone de Beauvoir! said the VeloDrone. That was months ago now. How long must we wait for this woman?

I don't know papa, but she'll surely write soon. I'll just check the inbox again....oh look, here's something from her, let me see......

You look alarmed my dear, said The VeloDrone.

Oh no! She's fallen off her bicycle and broken a tooth, papa!

Dear me! What happened?

She says she was riding along a country lane, when she turned a corner and crashed headlong into a man with a stiff leg, and crutches!