Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“So you think that if you just think of everything, you’ll be in control of it. But you’ve got to know that even with all these plans you’ve made, things are just going to happen how they’ll happen, and what really happens won’t be anything you’ve thought of. That’s how it always is. The universe hates plans.”
I feel a pang of irritation at her dismissal of my work. It reminds me of Arkan’s approach to life.
“I find that people who think that thinking isn’t worth the time it takes spend a lot of time being surprised by the way things happen, which only reinforces their ideas that thinking doesn’t work.”
“Hm,” she nods, cocking her head to the side. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe I don’t think enough.”
Again, I am surprised. Usually when I provide such feedback, all that happens are dismissals and denials. This human considers my point of view immediately and considers that her own point of view might be less than perfect. She is intelligent, I realize. Deeply so. Maybe more intelligent than I had ever given humans credit for being.
“I’m hungry,” she announces.
“Of course. I will get you something to eat. Stay here.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay. There’re those soldiers out there, and there’s food in here. Or there will be. Is there entertainment? Anything to watch or read?”
“I have paper and ink pens. You could write or draw. Just don’t write or draw on anything I’ve already written or drawn on. Here.” I pick up a stack of unused paper and a couple of spare pens full of dark ink and press them into her arms. “Entertain yourself with these.”
She looks down at the things in her arms. “Will you teach me how to read and write your language?”
For a third time, I am taken aback. Never once has a human I have taken into my custody for training asked to be taught how to use our written language. Usually the fact that we are able to speak to them in their human tongue is enough.
“Yes. I can teach you. I can try. I do not know if it will translate, as we have telepathic elements which are reflected even in our written words, but it would be interesting to attempt.”
She looks around for somewhere to sit, and that is when I realize there is basically nowhere for her to get comfortable other than the bed. My quarters are minimalistic at best. I have never bothered to put much in them besides what I need for myself. I have never tried to make them comfortable for anyone else, including a pet.
“You can sit on the bed,” I tell her. “I will get some additional furnishings for you.”
“Additional furnishings,” she says. “Aren’t I lucky.”
“You very much are,” I agree, ignoring what is probably a hint of sarcasm.
Leaving her sitting on my bed, I go to run errands for my pet. It’s strange. For the last however long, I have visited her unconscious body several times a day, never really thinking of her as anything more than a task that needed to be completed. Now that task is sending me on more tasks. It may very well never end. Oddly, I find myself not minding that thought as much as I imagined.
I raid my brother Zain’s room. He has blankets, throws, pillows, all manner of decadent comforts collected over the years. If he likes something, he takes it. I have always been more circumspect about what I gather. If I do not absolutely need something, it is discarded. There are also some small tables that she can probably sit at with the aid of cushions and such.
Stella
Kahn returns absolutely festooned with blankets, cushions, and small pieces of furniture, carrying what seems to be the contents of an entire room in one go. His arms are full, and more is balanced on his shoulders. He looks like a walking alien interior design store.
He also has a grilled cheese sandwich sitting precariously next to a bowl of hot tomato soup, balanced against all known laws of nature on the back of his left hand. He steps into the room with this inherently unstable configuration very obvious, to the extent that I rush forward to grab the hot liquid before the entire unbalanced load comes down in a hefty crash.
Sure enough, my removing the plate and bowl are enough to destabilize Kahn’s load, and the rest of the items tumble from his grip one after the other as he reaches out to stop the heaviest and most breakable things from hitting the ground directly.
I am left standing holding my lunch, or is it dinner, in the midst of a bunch of stuff I know he must have spent the last hour or so picking out for me because there’s no way a grilled cheese and tomato soup took that long to make.