Delta.

You stand there looking at the wreckage that you have wrought. The skyline is clear, plenty of room to breathe and walk around.

You heft the sledgehamm...

Oy. When you said "to be continued," I had no idea that meant over TWO FREAKING WEEKS.

Oh, great. It's you. It's been a while, hasn't it Voice #7?

Seriously, man, what the Hell are you writing about now? Do you fancy youself the modern Aesop or something?

What? I'm not writing fables here, Voice, I'm writing a series about self-exploration and change.

Self-exploration and change? More like an essay into existential boredom and literary masturbation. I've read ingredient labels more entertaining than this.

You can't be serious. This isn't about amusing the masses, this is about providing another way of looking at one's internal struggles.

Good lord. Lemme ask you something. When was the moment when you decided to become egotistical and boring? If you ask me...

Piss off, Voice. I'm doing this because...

IF YOU ASK ME, I'm fairly certain that you've lost focus. Remember when we used to write? I mean ACTUALLY write?

I AM writing.

Oh, really? What, besides bitchy, whiny and depresssive self-important tretises on life's cruelty, have you written lately? Writing with you used to be fun, full of fart jokes and bullshit. Now it's like writing with... With a... With a third-level Chaucer wannabe.

Look, Voice, if you don't like it, why don't you just fuck off 'til I'm through? I'm happy doing this. It gives me a sense of release to vent what I've been dealing with for years.

Say after me: Literary. Masturbation.

What, you're so damn smart?

Never claimed to be, but I probably am more right about this than you can see objectively.

Fine. You want to hash this out or do we just ignore each other like we've done over the past few years?

Though I may have been silent, I haven't ignored you.

Oh, so you have been paying attention? Alright. Go on then, if you must...

----+----

To be continued...