another day, another dollar

The Scene:

An office on Monday morning, the industrial-scale windows masked by an interminable curtain of fog.

The Players:

Myself, newly-dyed redhead logophile looking up obscure words whilst consuming a second cup of coffee;

Diana, bespectacled coworker and reservationist, listening intently; and

The Computer, passive master of the workplace, on which obscure words are searched for.

“Here’s one, ” I say, tapping the screen of the Computer. “Paraphasia.”

“What’s it mean?” Asks Diana.

“A mental disorder marked by constant talking with misuse of words”

(There is a pause while the players take in this definition.)

Diana says, “I have that.”

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another day, another dollar

2 thoughts on “another day, another dollar

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