it's a metaphor for consumerism, i think

The dull thunk of my paddle hitting the boat is the only thing that breaks the silence of the lake I'm traversing

SCENE 2

THE EXECUTOR sits opposite me in the boat, left side.

"What is illness?" It asks.

I don't answer immediately, too intimate with how my paddle glides through the water. It's oddly melodic, the white-burning slosh of the waves struggling against the waxed wood.

"Hmm.. bad change?"

"Interesting, deep, metaphorical. Elaborate?"

"No thank you."

The fog rolls past us like a soft embrace, taking up the essence of our souls. Or perhaps only mine, I'm not quite sure the Executor has one. Either way, it disperses it, urges it to become one.

"What is grief?"

"Ooh I've thought about this one." My canoe rocks a little as I adjust the way I'm hunched over to more comfortably switch the paddle from side to side. "it's the pain you feel from losing something that's a part of yourself, even when you didn't think it was a part of yourself."

"I see." A strange shape appears in the distance, jutting out from behind the Executor's mask. It's odd, blindingly white, and looks like nothing out of this world. A tower?

Peter-

The environment changes, soft lulling lake giving away to a harsh push and pull of waves no man had traversed and survived. The executor and I stayed calm as it took us under, looking at no one but each other in the moments where everything disappeared. Life, gone, forgotten. There was nothing. I was nothing.

White whispers of twyrine tickle my thoughts, dreams, and ambitions. I need not answer the call, as much else in my life, it wanders straight to me.

"What is ambition?" The executor asks, standing right beside me like it had never left.

"Don't know. Don't care. I'm much too simple for that." I remember now- we were standing on the balcony of the theater, watching some play with Daniil, Artemy, and mystery third girl talking about how the world was ending or something. Not that it was my problem.

"I suppose you are. That, or that's not something you need to unpack right now."

"How much of this is real?"

"Cogito, ergo sum. I think therefore I am. It's about as real on this canvas as you allow it to be."

"Don't you have any more obscure latin quotes? To make me sound smarter?"

"I thought it was obscure?"

"It was obscure when I took philosophy class, like, 5 years ago." I roll my eyes, leaning against the Executor as I gaze down upon the stage play. "Now everyone's saying it."

"Does this 'everyone' understand what it means?"

"Does it matter? It sounds cool."

"Is that why you are so intrigued by the bachelor? Because he's so cool? Speaks Latin?"

"Nah." I rap my fingers against the wooden balustrade, watching his actor say something offensive. Like a slur or something idk. I think the bachelor should be allowed to say 1 (one) slur.

"Okay." The executor finally concedes after a couple of beats, standing rather comfortably beside me. "Are you going to use any of the information we're giving to you today?"

"When do I ever? I just do whatever might be the funniest."

"Funny? I could show you something funny."