Page 91 of Rhymes with Metaphor
“Oh, yes,” said Joel.“It all makes sense now.”
“Really?”
“No.”
Reg was used to keeping odd hours.He had only become more diurnal after spending time with Joel.But as the night wore on, he became more animated and excited seeing his work come together.This thesis was easily the best thing he’d written—much better thanPlayer.It might even be the best thing he’d ever write.
Joel on the other hand, was clearly flagging, despite Reg supplying him with coffee.After Joel had transcribed all of the poems, he made an index for Reg so he could decide how to order them.Reg was inclined to respect the natural chronology of creation.
Joel insisted on running a final spell check.At this point, Joel, who normally had perfect posture, was slouched over the keyboard, chin propped on his palm, and could barely keep his eyes open.
It was nine o’clock in the morning when Reg attached the finished thesis to his email to the chair and clicked send.
“Is that it?”said Joel.
“It’s done.I just have to defend it now.End of an era.”
Joel yawned.
Reg wheedled Joel upstairs to Reg’s bedroom, and Joel fell onto the bed in his clothes.Reg joined him.
“Thank you, my little muse,” said Reg.“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Good,” Joel mumbled.
Reg pulled him into his arms.“I’m too tired to do anything for you now.Tomorrow.”
Reg was too exhausted to fully enjoy the triumph of finishing his thesis or the feel of his muse, soft with exhaustion, lying in his arms, and he fell asleep quickly.
Chapter 22: Marked (Not for Life)
Reg woke half off thebed and blinking.He was ravenously hungry and needed a piss.When he checked the clock, it said 6:05, and he wondered how time had managed to run backwards.Joel was still asleep.
Downstairs, he checked his email and found a curt reply from the chair about “pushing your luck,” which Reg thought was a cliché thing to write, but then she was an administrator, not a creative.She hadn’t rejected his thesis out of hand, which was something.She said she would get back to him with a date for his defence, which left Reg with a complete absence of responsibilities or worry for the next two weeks at least.
He wandered into the kitchen, pulled some chocolate and almond croissants out of the freezer, and put them in the oven.Then he made Turkish coffee.When they were ready, he brought them upstairs on a tray.Joel lay prone in the bed, comatose.Reg got in beside him and started eating.
