Conversation · Lilienne, the Net Picker

My prediction? It will be at least two days.

There's a moment's silence. She looks at the slushy snow-melt on the yellow belly of the boat.

There's a moment's silence. She looks at the slush-like rain-thing melt on the yellow belly of the boat.

"No, ma'am. No problem."

"But... it's not a sunny day."

"Sure it is. 'Twould be bad news for the skiff if it weren't. Bad news for the nets. Bad news for the kids."

Say nothing.

She looks at the boat dripping with slush and nods, proudly.

"Sunny days?" (Catch a snowflake in your palm.)

"Aye." She looks at the snow melt in the water. "Sunny days. You got a problem with that?"

"That's my motor carriage in the sea by the way." (Point to the sunken vehicle.)

"Oh..." she looks at the pointed direction. "That's good to know, I guess. Why is it in the sea?"

"I got drunk and apparently drove it in the sea."

She looks at you and shrugs. "This calls for a funeral if you ask me."

"No, that's senseless sentimentality. Inanimate objects don't have souls."

"You never know, officer. Some things might have a soul." There's something playful in her smile. "But I get it. A rational guy like you probably has a lot on his plate anyway. So what can I do for you?"

"You are suggesting we honour the carcass of my former motor carriage?"

"Aye. Feels deserved, don't you think? Falling in the line of duty like that and all."

"I don't think they have funerals for motor carriages."

"And why so? Our things are a part of our life-world. They're made with human sweat and they share human history. We should care about them as we care about humans, to some extent at least."

Life-world? Someone's been reading up on last century Gottwaldian philosophers. Play it cool now.

"I don't get attached. Definitely not to things."

She shrugs. "If you say so."

She didn't appreciate your cold rationality.

"Alright, I'm in. But organizing a funeral takes lot of time and effort, doesn't it?"

"Oh yeah," she says with a chuckle. "You won't even be able to get it out of the water before early June and where are you gonna bury it? Who to invite? What music to play at the wake?"

"Take it from someone who's been through a few funerals: It's easiest to just leave them there and let nature take care of it."

"That's all we have time for right now anyway." The lieutenant looks at you sympathetically. "Come back here in June and see how you feel about it then. It's not like it's going anywhere."

"It's a pity we don't get to do more frivolous side-activities. I would have really liked that."

The lieutenant looks at you almost gently. "Yes. That is a pity. But for now let's focus on the things we do get to do. Like the murder investigation for example."

He liked the Coupris funeral idea.

"I understand, believe me, I really do." She brushes back her hair. "I think about all the frivolous side-activities I could be doing every time I go out there with my nets."

"But daydreaming is a rich man's game. At sea you can't afford to be careless and dream. Anyway..." She shakes her head. "What are we talking about here again?"

"Let's focus on the things we can actually do, alright?"

"Absolutely." She nods. "Things like what for example?"

"It's a pity we don't get to do more frivolous side-activities. Like rejuvenate the Doomed Commercial Area, or..."

It's going to be quite a few years before 'nature' is able to completely take care of a motor carriage. You can always come back in few months and see if you still want to give it a proper send-off.

"What an... odd thought. Maybe I should."

"Why odd? Our things are a part of our life-world. They're made with human sweat and they share human history. We should care about them as we care about humans, to some extent at least."

"I don't want a funeral. I hate death."

"Holding a funeral doesn't mean you love death. Don't be childish. You're a police officer..."

"Our things are a part of our life-world. They're made with human sweat and they share human history. We should care about them as we care about humans. To some extent at least," she adds.

"I'm actually in the middle of a murder investigation right now."

"Police business. I understand." She nods. "Anything I can help you with?"

"It was an accident. I'm sorry."

"I don't know."

"I think I might," the lieutenant mumbles under his breath.

"An official investigation has been launched -- by me -- to determine just that, ma'am."

"That's great." The woman glances towards the wreckage again. "Until then you should maybe start thinking about the funeral?"

Sire, she doth not believe it wasn't you.

"It is a sign. Of the carnage to come. The great Culling."

"Quite the sign. An eye-sore too." She frowns. "The situation calls for a funeral if you ask me."

"It's an installation." (Wet your lips.) "Very conceptual."

"Hm, an installation?" She raises her eyebrows. "Us poor people are stupid and don't get 'installations'. All I see is a heap of trash. This actually calls for a funeral, I think."

"I wasn't feeling it."

"Wasn't feeling it," she repeats thoughtfully. "That calls for a funeral if you ask me."

She needs to go on a date with another drunk. Badly.

You think she really needs more of that after her man died at sea?

But what do I do then?!

What if I told you... it is actually possible to go on a date sober?