Inaction

Inaction! I echoed, slightly annoyed. I was thinking more along the lines of letting things take their own course, while keeping an eye out for culpability due to inaction on my part.

It's the same thing, remarked Pliny, if you don't do anything.

It isn't, I said. It's my way of living an examined life. You live an examined life don't you?

I am too busy, said Pliny.

Oh yes, I said. Have you sent off your bicycle story yet?

I have, said Pliny. It will be published tomorrow. I hope it will be well received.

Bound to be, I said. It's got everything. Mystery, music, comedy, an approaching storm, two bicycles, religious controversy, even an apotheosis of sorts.

Thanks, said Pliny, looking pleased. I wonder if they'll ask me for a follow-up.

Do you have another bicycle story in you? I asked.

Oh yes indeed I do, said Pliny. I've been reading Kafka. I have an idea for a story which I shall call Kafka's Bicycle. A man wakes up one morning to discover he's turned into a giant beetle.

How is that any different from Kafka's story?

There will be a bicycle in it.

But surely a beetle couldn't ride a bicycle.

I must say you have very little imagination.

True. I like to just sit back and let things take their course.

Do that. And I shall commence work on my story.

Existence Deconstructed

I believe I understand, said Pliny the Elder, why you held back from offering help to your mother when she was planting her petunias.

You do? I said, surprised.

I do, said Pliny. You did not wish to spoil her pleasure in a small task she enjoys. You did not wish to interfere, or to diminish her dignity as a person.

That is partly true, Pliny, I agreed. The other reason is that I dislike petunias.

Oh! said Pliny, that is a great deal less admirable, Why do you dislike them?

I don't know. Probably because she likes them so much.

Well! said Pliny. Perhaps I should delve no further into this.

Perhaps you shouldn't, I agreed. But tell me, what did you think of my existential companion piece, on the petrol vouchers and gold bottle top?

I did not quite know what to make of it, said Pliny. It was as if you thought what happened was in some way representative of human existence. But any other person would have put down the unwanted petrol vouchers and the bottle top at once.

Where, for example? I challenged.

You were in the car, were you not? I know that car. There are many little nooks and crannies where one might temporarily deposit a small piece of rubbish. The drink holder, the glove box, the space under the radio, said Pliny.

Go on, I said.

That space behind the door handle, the back seat, the floor, continued Pliny, warming up.

You are correct Pliny, I said. Another person may have put the rubbish in any one of those places. And remembered, or not remembered, to take the rubbish inside when they got home. But there is a key to every person. And these two pieces on existence were the key to me.

Aha! said Pliny suddenly, after thinking for a moment. I have it! Inaction!