Master Mason

A Story by cwwood

Short story about communication, and relationships

I had been dating this woman for nearly three years and to say we had made progress would be an understatement. When I met her she would sit in her room all day listening to depressing music, wearing drab clothing, only coming out to go for walks alone, preferably in the rain. Today we were discussing the benefits of the government providing free Internet service to all Americans.

“So that’s why I’m not voting for Obama this year. Did you know that Jill Stein and the Green Party want to provide Internet service to every American?” She was starting to voice her opinions, a sure sign of impending doom.

Conveniently, the printer decided to malfunction. I took the opportunity to change the subject. “This printer is a piece of s**t.”

“Well what’s it say?” she asked.

“It says it’s in the tray. It says it’s sending the information to the printer.”

“What does the printer say?” I got up from my red and white floral print chair that I’d found at a yard sale last summer for five dollars and made my way to the printer.

“It says the message can’t be received. There’s a network error.”

“You never listen to me.” She abruptly changed the subject back to the Green Party and free Internet. “Do you even know what I said?”

“Free Internet,” I replied, “That is interesting. I wonder how they plan to do it, I mean, do you take the business from current ISP’s and make it a government program entirely, or would they subsidize the companies themselves for providing for the people who couldn’t afford the service?” Now I had done it. And not even a direct attack (As I am sometimes prone to do) but a legitimate interest in the ramifications of such a policy. Sometimes it’s like she has her ideology stacked up really, really tall like Jenga, and she thinks I’m the a*****e who goes straight for the bottom tiles.

“I’m not talking to you about this anymore.” She was clearly getting upset, but we didn’t usually make it this far. I pressed on.

Why can’t we ever just have a conversation, you know, I say some things, and then you say some things. Then maybe what you say gives me a different perspective, or vice versa?”

“I don’t know, I just come to a conclusion in my head. I’ve got the answer, and I see no reason to argue with you about it. It’s not my fault you haven’t gotten there yet.”

“That is the most selfish and egotistical thing I have ever heard you say.” I said it to hurt her, but it was akin to kicking a person while they’re down. I tried to soften the blow with a sheepish smile. “But what if your conclusion is wrong? Or what if there’s a new perspective you could look at it from that would make your life, our life, better?”

She didn’t answer. We had been slogging through this forest too long and we had finally gotten there. Not our destination, no. I’m not even sure if you asked us separately if we’d even have anything remotely similar in mind when it comes to an actual destination. If I had to guess, she’d probably say she was already there.

We had reached the wall. Interminably high, and extending in both directions infinitely, she was a master mason.

© 2013 cwwood

Author's Note

is the underlying message (the minimalism) too much? too obvious?...

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Reviews

Marie

To me the underlying message is that this is an opinionated woman who not only isn't interested in considering someone else's opinion, she isn't even interested in hearing it.