K and Emerald

K would be my name. Nothing more than K. K for Kafka, because within the lifeless box I would complete my metamorphosis.

E: You're not being very coherent K, not coherent at all.

K: What does that mean??

E: It means whatever you want it to mean.

K: Glib Glib GLIB

E: yes it was rather wasn’t it, we shouldn’t be afraid of being obtuse. Once in a while.

K: I’m not afraid.

E: Would that that were true honey. Your afraid of the dark. When you step inside the lift you're heart skips a beat. You’re afraid of life.

K: I’m afraid of danger, nothing more. What’s wrong with that?

E: Everything. Life’s big, huge, not so scary in small doses.

K: How small.

E: Moments, seconds, details.

K: Yes your right.

Everything he said had held truth within it. Each letter, coma, semicolon seemed to ring true somehow. The computer itself had become Emerald, his physical embodiment. I would look at the computer, run my hand down the smooth screen. Switching it off became more and more painful. Emerald was becoming more than a detail, far more.