if I was imaginary

“Why would you say such… dangerous things?!” He looks skeptically, raising one eyebrow. On the table, the candle light dances wildly, torn by the evening. His fingers twist around the shaft of the wine glass. Playful smile…

“It shows. Constantly. The innate equilibrium of the universe, the glorious dynamics of chaos. You know, nature is my directive, the only law worth following…” I state, looking up from my chocolate cake.

“So what you say, is that the laws of nature, are something to follow? Laws of the jungle? To eat or to be eaten, the survival of the strongest?!”

I can’t help myself but growl at what he says. That’s certainly not what I meant. “The survival of the most aggressive – that doesn’t mean strong at all! I’m sorry, it’s me telling you, that history is written by those who win wars… Victims, on the other hand- the dead can’t tell stories.” Is he amused?

“The defeated are silenced anyway… And no! That’s not that simple. The law of the jungle isn’t what I meant. But it may be a facet of it…”

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