PuppeteerMature

An experiment in telling a story via the transcriptions of an audio tape. The nature of this method restricts the story to being made up almost entirely of dialogue, with a few descriptions of sounds. It was written to be read all at once, so I am not sure how well it will translate to a Protag story.

The following transcription is a representation of audible events that occurred at the residence of **** in ****, New Jersey, as recorded on MTM (Magnetic Tape Media). Although no fallacy has yet been detected by the agency, no affirmations are made regarding the factuality of anything spoken of or described by the speakers transcribed hereafter. The events following the recording have been officially labelled a suspicious disappearance and should be considered such. This transcription is in no way, shape, or form intended to contradict or disprove the official statement given by investigators.

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   [Opening click. Rustling sounds. Music audible in background]
   Male: Okay. This is... <inaudible> ...shit. Okay. Don’t get mad when you hear this. I’m only doing it because I want you to see how irrational you’re being lately. Everything I do is suspicious to you. It’s like we’re playing some kind of game with no objective. I hope that hearing yourself... <pause> ...I hope that hearing a conversation between us... <pause> ...from an outside perspective will show you how irrational you can be with me. Okay? You’re just so fucking hateful. I fucking hate it. I want us to be happy again. I just want us to be happy. Okay.

   [Music is turned off. Male sniffs. Rustling sounds]

   Male: As bad as it sounds, I really hope that you don’t pick today to be nice. Okay. I’m going in. [Laughter] I’m coming in.

   [Wind. Rustling sounds. Door closing]

   Male: Shit. Okay. Here I go.

   [Footsteps. Scratching sounds. Brief silence. Door opening]

   Male: Celeste?

   [Footsteps]

   Male: Celeste? <brief pause> Thought you might be gone.

   Celeste: Why? Is your girlfriend waiting outside?

   Male: Yes, that’s it. Jesus, Celeste


   Celeste: I was kidding.

   Male: Well, for the last two months you haven’t been kidding.

   Celeste: Fine.

   Male: How was I supposed to know?

   Celeste: I said fine. I was just kidding. Let it go.

   Male: Okay.

   Celeste: Where were you?

   Male: What does that matter?

   Celeste: I’m not allowed to ask where my husband has been?

   Male: You can. It’s not that. It’s the way you said it.

   Celeste: Nicely?

   Male: No.

   Celeste: I said it nicely. Where were you? Just like that.

   Male: Not just like that. It was a fake nice. Sarcastic. You said it like you think I was up to no good.

   Celeste: If you’re feeling guilty about something, don’t blame me for it.

   Male: I’m not feeling guilty.

   Celeste: Uh-huh.

   Male: I’m not. I have nothing to feel guilty about.

   Celeste: Okay.

   Male: I don’t. I’ve done nothing wrong.

   Celeste: I said okay.

   [A sigh, unknown issuer]

   Male: I want to talk to you.

   Celeste: Talk away.

   Male: Okay, could you at least look at me? Sit down or something?

   [Footsteps. Rustling]

   Male: How am I supposed to talk to you when you’re walking away from me?

   Celeste: I can hear you.

   Male: Stop.

   Celeste: Don’t touch me.

   Male: Please. Let’s just sit down and talk.

   [Sound like something rubbing against the microphone. Loud pop. Nothing audible over the hiss of the tape from 4:21 to 6:16]

The End

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