May. 18th, 2008

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It's impossible to lie in a restroom. Humans just aren't wired to think about deception when they're, you know, attending to simpler needs. We can talk, but we can't lie.

That's how I know that Johnny wasn't bluffing when we chatted in the movie theatre restroom this afternoon.

"You remember all those secret messages we wrote when we were young? Where we wrote in lemon juice, then cooked in a toaster to make the text come back?"

"Sure."

"After thirty years, all that visible text attains its next form, made all of lightning and screeches and half-remembered poetry and birds and flax and thunder. It remembers us, the ones who wrote it. It's chasing us now. We made a terrible mistake with that lemon juice, Ted. We tampered with forces we never understood."

If he hadn't said it in a bathroom I wouldn't have believed him. I was going to ask him more, but we hastled back to catch the movie and I forgot.

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