The Interview by LoannaLois Conversations writing prompt entry |
I was wondering how cool I was going to try to be. Here I am, I swear, the talk-show host, waiting to interview a monument to Literature. He has no idea how times have changed; how different my role in life is. I do not want to appear intimidating.
HELLO, MR. HEMINGWAY...I BELIEVE YOU HAVE CAUGHT ME IN A PERSONAL REVERIE, WONDERING JUST HOW TO COMMUNICATE WITH GREATNESS. Ms. Winfrey, just cut the crap and be yourself. We'll be drinking buddies before you know it. I'm glad to meet you. Able to look ahead, I liked The Color Purple very much. Finally, an honest movie without being overly dramatic. But you asked me to explain my sad story. Well, here it is. OH, BY THE WAY, WHAT TIME IS IT, TOOTS? Well, Mr Hemingway,(may I call you Ernest?)... { He nodded yes.}... And it's 3:18 P.M., Ernest. O.K. I WAS AN AMBULANCE DRIVER IN THE WAR, WHERE I WAS CRITICALLY WOUNDED. THEY HAD TO SEND ME HOME. I SUPPOSE MY ANGER AND UNADULTERATED GRIEF BEGAN AT MY LANDING HOME. I BEGAN WRITING LIKE A MAD MAN...BEGINNING MY FIRST NOVEL, 'THE SUN ALSO RISES'. I'VE LIVED IN AFRICA WHERE I BECAME 'ME'. TWO HORRIBLE PLANE CRASHES, 'THE NOBEL' AND 'PULITZER PRIZE' ALL CAME AND WENT FROM MY LIFE. THEY MEANT NOTHING. ...AND PLEASE STOP LOOKING AT ME AS IF YOU ARE GOING TO PET ME. I CAME HOME, NEXT, TO OUR MUTUAL HOME IN OAK PARK, ILLINOIS...(DID YOU KNOW WE SHARED A TEMPORARY HOME TOWN?) HELL, CUB FANS STICK TOGETHER. 'WISH I COULD HAVE STAYED A FAN, DONE SOMETHING RATHER LIKE MY BOYHOOD SHOULD HAVE CONSISTED OF.' BUT THAT'S ALL SAID AND DONE. NOVEL AFTER NOVEL THEN CAME TO FILL MY SOLITUDE. WRITING WAS JUST NOT ENOUGH. NEITHER WAS THE BOOZE. I WAS SO LOST, DEPRESSED, AND SORRY FOR MYSELF, IT WAS PATHETIC. I DECIDED TO MOVE OUT WEST TO KETCHUM, IDAHO. THE REST; YOU KNOW, BABE. Yes, I know the rest. Why, after such a full life, filled to your brim with talent, did you end that precious life? OPRAH, SOMETIMES THE BELL TOLLS. THE BELL JUST TOLLS FOR EACH OF US.
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