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John Doe and Convo (5)

I confided in John Doe regarding a preference I had.
"You know what's so funny about that?", I said as I roared with laughter.
He tried to empathise and sighed, "What?"
I continued, in the same way I started, "The roots are firmly in place and what's left for me to do is let them grow," Unfettered, I paused but only to raise the same cyclical point, "Let them grow into beautiful shrubs and possibly, tear me apart."
I could not decide whether to sob or laugh.
In the end, I gave a tired giggle; a silent friendly appease.
He, not knowing what else to do, laughed and replied, " Oh dear, that could be a threat."
"A tiny yet indisposable, malicious prickpoint. Oh, like a fetish for loincloths," I elaborated.
He was struck into a conversation he could not comprehend.
I was a whale on land, a rat in water, a flower in a cave, a husband in a marriage; I was everything natural, and unnatural.
"An awful combination," I said.
"Like eggs and fishes," he replied.
I was taken aback by his ingenuity.
But I was relentless, and shouted, "Haha, was that all you could say?"
And then, he kept silent and gave me an all-knowing smile.