I was sitting in the shiny new local public library yesterday, reading a bit of Joy Williams' nihilist very-short fiction while thinking of my Iliad reboot, when a voice in the back of my head started into its usual, "You have to explain this. All of this." And another voice said, totally unexpectedly, "No, I don't."
Ah, the sudden decompression! I often say that the shortest answer can be the most true, and there it was. That bit of dialogue repeated itself as I returned the book to the stacks, visited the rest room, strolled back to the car, drove home. Every time it repeated, it was even more true. And I felt even lighter.
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