"What do you think was going through his mind before he hung himself?" she asked while munching on a bag of crispy seaweed from Thailand. I thought we had better things to do this time of the day, but it's her birthday so I'd entertain her a bit.
"If you ask me, his world ended. And he was unwilling to live in a world that was imposed on him."
"Unwilling or unable?" she pressed on, unsatisfied with my answer.
I shrugged, "unwilling and unable. Does it matter, now?"
She sensed the impatience in my voice and said nothing.
Internally, I was screaming WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE FUCKING NORMAL? but instead I asked what she wanted for her birthday, as a gesture.
"The apocalypse?" she said with a Cheshire cat grin. I was this close to jumping off the building, then I recalled we were on the 7th floor: a certain death would not be guaranteed.
"Ask your boyfriend."
"In that case, I want the Valentino backpack we saw the other day at the shop."
QUICK - change the subject.
"I never understood why you care so much about that one stranger who committed suicide."
I emphasised the word stranger so I could witness her getting visibly ticked off.
She just stared with those eyes, "I'm unable to handle queries of metaphysical, ethical, or aesthetic nature."
I watched as she finished the last bit of the crispy snack and licked crumbs off her fingertips. Unable or unwilling? I wasn't sure.
"Kind of fucking useless, aren't you?" I probed.
"That sums up the intention of our makers."
Then she winked.
*****
Sentient counterpart: "Alexa, laugh."
