“Do you think two very different people can work together?” Rick asked.
“Do you mean us? The two of us?” Sally asked.
“You want to talk about structure and take notes and work with pen and paper and sit here forever and map it all out,” Rick said, but wasn’t yet looking for any feedback.
“I just want to write,” Rick said and stopped. But then he kept going. “I want to write because I can’t not write. I learn when I write. In fact, I learn what’s going to happen through writing. I don’t even know what I’m going to say next, maybe I need to write it down,” he said and looked like a lost puppy.
“Sorry, now you can’t speak, but you can only write? Do you think it’s time for wine?”
“You just want to drink wine and sit in the Parisian cafe and order croissants and probably even smoke cigarettes,” Rick said but as he did, he realized he might have just stepped over the line. What line though? he thought. “I want to just jump in and see what happens. Get our feet wet and play around and see where this leads. I want to start, I don’t want to talk about starting. I want to write, not talk about writing. I don’t want to map or chart or plan or structure or pen or paper or cafe or wine, I just want to write.”
“I think I met the right guy,” Sally said and winked. “Get it?”
He didn’t get it.
“Right spelled r-i-g-h-t and write spelled w-r-i-t-e. I met just the right guy,” she smiled at him and didn’t say anything else.
“Sally, how can you just come back at me with your simple and short sentences and manage to shut me up and make me think and make me want to just,” but he trailed off.
“Make you just want to what?” Sally asked, not taking her eyes off of him.
“I don’t actually know,” were the first words that came out of his mouth. They weren’t the words he was thinking or even the ones he wasn’t thinking, but they’re the ones that came out. He calmed, his breathing slowed, he stopped time for just a moment.
“I have an idea,” Sally said, but didn’t elaborate.
“Uh,” Rick waited. Sally waited. Rick asked, “Are you going to share with me?”
Only when he spoke, did he realize that she was doing exactly what he had done to her before. She smiled.
“Gottcha!” she said, extremely pleased with herself.
“No one says Gottcha anymore,” Rick said, trying to save a little bit of face.
“I do,” Sally said. “Now come on. I’m going to show you where real creativity is born.”