—Whatever happened to that thing you wrote?

—Thing I wrote?

—You wrote something many years ago.

—I wrote many things many years ago.

—But this was a thing. Someone asked for it.

—Oh.

—A thing. For a movie?

—A movie? Yes. Or a play. Or something.

—What happened to it?

—I don’t know.

—Did they like it?

—Who?

—The people who asked you to write it.

—I don’t know. Someone said they did.

—Who said they did?

—I don’t remember.

—What was it about?

—About?

—Yes, what was the plot?

—Plot? It was words.

—But all writing is words. What did it mean?

—What do you mean what did it mean?

—What was it trying to say? What was the story?

—It didn’t mean anything. It was just words.

—But what was it about? Where was it set?

—It was just words. It wasn’t about anything.

—How can words not be about anything?

—Words aren’t about anything. They don’t mean anything.

—That’s not possible. Who were the characters?

—Characters? You don’t seem to understand.

—No, I don’t understand.

—It’s a puzzle.

—Puzzling, anyway.

—Were there people in it?

—What? People in what?

—The thing you wrote.

—It was words.

—Did someone speak the words?

—Someone could.

—Or not?

—Or not.

—What about images?

—What kind of images?

—Illustrations.

—Nothing to illustrate.

—To help readers understand.

—No one understands the meaning of words and images.

—But they must understand something.

—Why?

—Art and language are forms of communicating.

—So you say.

—Everyone believes it is true.

—Most people seem to.

—How else can we let people know what we are thinking?

—I don’t know what you are thinking.

—But you have an idea?

—You will never know.