COASTLINE.

dialogue prompts from project hail mary by andy weir.

kids are smarter than most people think.

i'm glad no one believed me. i'm better off.

you're lying, insane, or a combination of the two.

there's no time for old grudges.

are you joshing me with all this?

i thought you'd be harder to find.

are you recording all this?

you have a commanding presence, that's for sure.

it's probably not as dramatic as it seems.

wait a minute. am i a guinea pig?

you can't be 100% serious forever.

where did you hear that word?

should i have stopped you?

i've got it from here.

why do you go to ____ at all?

someone put a post-it on my note while i slept.

there was a time when something like that would surprise me, but, you know, not anymore.

was that a pun?

i want to hang out with you. can we hang out?

just tell me what you need, and i'll make it happen.

why the heck can't you just be normal?

this is our life now. welcome.

you just wanted someone to tell you what you already know.

you can't just talk yourself out of a primal fear.

my life is a collection of conference rooms, these days.

no need to thank me. i'm here against my will.

i don't like complexity. i don't like risk.

we put more effort into naming stuff than we should.

i like you. you're a genius.

i don't have time for this bullshit.

i'm only here as a courtesy.

sleep might not be such a bad idea.

you're not alone anymore. neither of us are.

i'm fully aware of your authority, but it has limits. you're not magical.

you can't just use 'i'm saving the world' as an excuse every time you're a jerk.

you have a strange logic to you.

you did what you had to do.

you compliment me too much.

how long were you here alone?

being insane is the only way to be happy and be russian at the same time.

you and i are birds of a feather, it seems.

i guess you don't kiss and tell.

do you call her 'doctor' while having sex?

fist bump.

do not fuck up my house.

when stupid ideas work, they become genius ideas.

do you believe in god? i know that's a personal question.

cool? it's an extinction-level event.

no part of this is how things are supposed to be.

i think push has definitely come to shove.

you could have let me die. you should have, really.

your body should know what to do. you just have to let it.

maybe i'm being emotional instead of rational, but so what?

i'm smart enough to know i'm stupid. that's progress.

you and me are good people.

if this is my part to play, then so be it.

being on fire sucks.

do you think i don't know you?

you're a coward. you always have been. you avoid risk like the plague.

you are annoyingly honorable.

believe it or not, i kind of like you. i just don't respect you very much.

i'm 99% sure you'll do the right thing.

yeah, i'm going to miss you. you're my friend.

the past was unrelenting misery for most people.

i don't know if you can hear me, but i'm here.

say something. let me know you're okay.

try to stay positive.

speaking from a selfish perspective, i hope you stay. but that's just me.

i wanted to be the one to tell you.

so. for context, my roomie moved out (interstate) yesterday & i am moving into their old room + trying to clean out the house a bit, because various friends have lived here since 2018, and there is random stuff in cupboards & such that doesn't need to exist anymore.

firstable. he (The Man, not my old roomie) left us the rubbish from yesterday's lunch time takeaway next to the bin. not in the bin. not in the outside bin. but next to it. just as a little goodbye treat <3 a little forget me not <3

the main thing i have to screech about is the fact that i feel like my roommate has become Significantly Lazier since this man has been in their life - which is something i think happens when you spend a lot of time around someone; you tend to pick up their traits & emulate them, because what is socially expected/acceptable is shifting. overton window type shit

they have left SOOOOO much random trash. they cleaned out all their shit & were supposed to go to the op shop for WEEKS to donate it (but obv That Man was here* and they were too busy like, watching tv or something), but they just stuffed it in the storage space under the house & were like sorry i ran out of time </3 and that's just the stuff they TOLD me about. they left cat litter all thru the bathroom (which i just learned my other housemate has been vacuuming between cat visits - not them, the owner of the cat who was supposed to stay for a week or something and then never left, despite the horrific allergies i & my other housemate have [i complain less, his are significantly worse]. are you sensing a pattern), a random (large) box of just... trash on the back deck, and another in the kitchen ???

both outside bins are also 100% full (we were not told, of course), so, like, fuck us if we have to continue living here & accumulating waste until they get picked up in a few days

*sidenote: after he stayed without an end date last time, we were like hey... can we maybe not have that happen again? because he is loud & i get overstimulated and Scared (loud man in house. cptsd bad) and it is not my favourite thing to be happening. and we had a nice talk about it & settled on "he can come for his conference, when he will be out of the house during the day, and then come back to help you move", which was already stretching it. (they were super clear we had veto power and could kick his ass out at a moments notice but in TRUTH i know they would likely have been pissed as hell at me/us for it & went and lived in his hotel room for the last three weeks before movign interstate. and we didn't want such things because we love this person & wanted to spend that time with them)

but they messaged us the next day and were like sorry :-/ i made a mistake w the dates and hes staying the whole time (the three weeks until they leave) anyway.

glare.

she sits at the edge of his desk, tapping her fingernails on the wood.

on its underside - beneath a screw that's been sawn in half and replaced perfectly - a tiny metallic bug, listening in on their conversation. obscured, now, by the tap-tap-tap-tap of hafrey's arrhythmic drumming.