An Exercise in Palindrome

Writing exercise.

Warning:
Dark theme, owing to--

Credits:
Heavy influence from Christopher Buckley's political satire "Thank You For Smoking" as well as David Sedaris' twisted fable "Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk" for the plot idea.


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No Love Lost
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It was really rather ironic, he thought, that this was where they'd first met.

He lit his cigarette, took a deep drag on it, and blew a cloud of smoke that blended into the imaginary swirl of her lingering perfume before vanishing through the window frame.

"I know you'd mind this, but--" He shrugged. "Hardly matters now, does it?"

Her gaze bore on his face, emotionless.

"Not that an apology would do any good at this point, anyway."

He fiddled with the cigarette in his fingers. Now that it was all over, he suddenly felt like spending a while longer with her.

"You wronged me first, remember."

He watched as pain registered across her face. She struggled with it for a long silent minute, fists clenched, jaws tense-- and then it was gone.

"We've all got to do what we've got to do."

She had said the same thing when she was leaving him, that first time.

Nothing personal, you understand. Was it really this easy to take a life?

It was her front-page article, crammed with privileged insider information that should've stayed within the bedroom walls, that had brought the company crumbling down in scandals and driven his brother to suicide.

"Don't give me that betrayed look. I know you never fully trust me. None of us is blameless, here."

In the end, it was simply a matter of who outwitting who.

Understanding dawned. She was smart. He suppressed a morbid urge to laugh. She was staring at him.

"With this," he gestured to his wine, the glass still untouched, "we're even."

He poured more wine from the bottle, filling her glass to the brim. It was deep red, a fitting colour for the occasion.

She contemplated it. "So you've come to tell me that you're going to overlook the past because you have further use for me?"

A thin smile formed on his lips. "I would think it poses less danger to my life compared to having a spying journalist in my house." He leaned back on his seat. "And I do intend to have you pay for what you've taken."

She gave him a sharp look as she drained her wine glass.

He took a cigarette out of his pack, and mockingly offered it to her. "You really wouldn't try a smoke?"


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For the second version/part of the story, please read the above paragraphs from bottom to top.


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Line palindromes in literature:
- James A. Lindon, "Doppelgänger" story-poem
- Jonathan Reed, "The Lost Generation" video-poem
- Douglas Hofstadter, "Crab Canon" dialogue (from "Gödel, Escher, Bach")

Crab canon in musical literature:
- J. S. Bach, "Canon 1 a 2"