Brownies and a Soliloquy
She had a bite of those mouth-watering brownies they usually serve in parties. “Where did you get these?” she asked. Then, she took an even bigger bite, “Did you make these?”
“These are sooooo good! I can’t get enough!”
“Delicious, aren’t they?” a boy said. “I’m glad you like it.” He threw a knowing smile… “… want more?” offering a salver with stacked brownies.
“I feel a soliloquy coming… like Hamlet… but good Hamlet… or was it Macbeth… I’m suddenly not sure.”
“A soliloquy. You know – like a dramatic monologue? It’s a literary device used to reveal the innermost thoughts of a character, like telling a secret.”
“Er… By all means,” said the boy. He was calm and collected – too composed, in fact – much like an all-knowing Devil. “Say what you have to say.” He knew what was coming. He had seen this a hundred times. This new girl – this unknowing girl – is just one of the many.
Nothing new, really.
Then the girl let her thoughts slide… “It’s that… I’m not quite sure if I’m truly blessed and if I do have the right to be blessed. It’s not that I doubt the Lord’s providence. I just feel unworthy of the good things he has bestowed on me. I deliberately sin against him and yet, he still puts me into the finest places I can possibly be! Like now – with these brownies! They’re heavenly. It’s like a bite of heaven just for me.
I thank the Lord, you see. I finally figured out that what He does for me and gives me are the best… and sometimes, best of the best. Let me tell you about the blessings God has given me: My singing, dancing, writing, speaking, playing sports of all sorts, typing, debating, discussing, listening, reading – do I have to tell you that I ace almost all reading exams, reporting, analyzing… even Math? I’m pretty, too. Don’t you think? You know what, I can’t enumerate them all. I would rather acknowledge the fact that in almost all the common disciplines… I do fairly well. Now, this may have you thinking that I’m also good at bragging… ahaha. These are unspoken thoughts anyway; my thoughts flow only in here…” gesturing towards her head, “… and not towards people.”
Then the boy said, “I suppose I’m in your head, then,” with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah. You are, indeed. You’re a figment of my imagination.” She took another brownie from the platter.
Then a random guy with a voice like Javier Bardem roared “Hey, Aero. What ‘ya doin’ with the preacher’s daughter? Don’t let her eat those, stupid!