Dizziness Of Freedom

Welcome, says Carol, opening the door. You must be Soren.

I am, says Kierkegaard. You must be Carol.

Come in, we're just having popcorn and trifle, says Carol. And Louisa has opened the Wild Gin.

Wonderful, says Kierkegaard. Thanks for the invitation.

He enters the room.

Kierky, says Sweezus. How's it hanging?

So-so, says Kierkegaard. In fact, I've been at a loose end.

You should have called us, says Gaius. We thought you were tied up with Angelina.

I was, says Kierkegaard. She returned to Mount Compass School for Term Four. After which she promised to come back to Kangaroo Island. But she hasn't.

Maybe she's dead, says Terence.

Hello, Terence, says Kierkegaard. No, she's just gone off me.

I've gone off Charigotchi, says Terence. 

What is that? Some sort of sausage? asks Kierkegaard.

Sausage! laughs Terence. Sit down over there.

Kierkegaard would prefer to sit at the table where the popcorn and trifle and Wild Gin are.

But he humours Terence.

He sits on the sofa.

Not there. On the cushion, says Terence.

Kierkegaard sits on the cushion.

Beep! goes something that must have been under the cushion.

Kierkegaard shifts hastily. 

That's my Charigotchi, says Terence. He's out of control.

Come and sit at the table, says Carol. 

Louisa pours Kierkegaard a Wild Gin.

Where are the Ears? asks Kierkegaard.

Ruined, says Terence.

Yeah, says Sweezus. We need to talk about that.

Kierkegaard reaches for popcorn.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Long story. The Ears were at the lighthouse, with Captain du Couedic. Arthur and me and Victor went to rescue them at night with a ladder. They didn't want to come until Captain Baudin dunked them in water and they went soggy. We rescued them but then they got mixed in with the sushi we were making. Arthur ate one and yeah, I reckon the other one got grated.

I didn't eat it, you ate it, says Arthur

Kierkegaard finishes his Wild Gin and asks for another. It's good to be back with his colleagues. 

Why do we need to talk about that? asks Kierkegaard.

Put a philosophical spin on it, says Arthur. But not too German.

I'm Danish, says Kierkegaard.

I know that, says Arthur.

Yeah, we know that. says Sweezus. So will you?

I....begins Kierkegaard.

O the dizziness of freedom!