Conversation behind me on the bus today:
“Like in my class you can get like an A if you recite The Raven. I don’t know why. He says that if you like recite it all it’ll be like a report and if you get like an A you’ll like get an A on the report.”
“So are you gonna do it?”
“Oh my God have you read like the Tall Tale Heart. It is like so scary. Oh my God I like read it when I was like alone and like it freaked me out. You have to like read it. The Tall Tale Heart.”
“Really, what kind of story is it? Is it like a scary story?”
“Oh my god it’s like so scary. You have to read it.”
“Who writes it?”
“It’s like Edgar Allan Poe.”
“Oh, yeah, it figures it would be him.”
“Like I told my mom to read it you know but like she doesn’t like horror stories unless they’re like directed by the guy that does like I Know What You Did Last Summer.”
“So is it like a ghost story?”
“No it’s like just like oh my God you have to like read it. Tall Tale Heart.”
It made me very sad, this conversation. Then confused. Then angry. Then I laughed. I think I’m back to sad now.
Tall Tale Heart. It is a tall tale when you think about it, I mean who’s giong to actually believe a story like that? It can’t possibly be true. Right? Oh my god I’d better go read it again just to like be sure. I think while I’m at it I’ll read Lord of the Rings again, ’cause Viggo is in it, and he’s like a hottie.