Today for my psychology course I took a Thematic Apperception Test to learn more about my personality. Participants are shown an ambiguous image and asked to create a story to accompany the image. I may have taken my response a bit further than necessary, or just down a very different road because my scores were very different from the scores of my peers!
Anyways, I’m actually kind of pleased with how this turned out. I don’t have a title for it, but I’ve also attached the image it was based off of below. Enjoy.
Loretta Diolio continued her incredibly important work moving specimens of microscopic fungi from one test tube to another. It didn’t matter that Jane, her accomplished and trusting partner, had an urgent and stern tone to her voice. What mattered was that the samples continued moving, the progress of their study continued moving, and Loretta’s mind continued moving.
“Loretta.” Jane called again, this time with a bit more urgency and a sharp note to the third syllable.
Supposing that there wasn’t a more efficient way to continue ignoring her, Loretta replied with an indifferent “Hmm?”
“Are we going to address….” Jane trailed off.
“I’m not certain. Are we going to address whatever it is you failed to finish your statement with? I’m not sure if we will address it. Especially not if you can’t bring yourself to articulate your thoughts.”
Color jumped into Jane’s cheeks with her partner’s critical response.
“There’s no need to snap.” The brunette mumbled as she made herself busy with the manila folder tucked under her arm.
“Then perhaps figure out what it is you wish to discuss, THEN approach me with a subject.” Loretta’s hand trembled slightly with the sudden influx of emotion, adding slight turbulence to the voyage several million spores embarked upon to make it to their new home.
“Are you this cruel to Henry?”
This lunge began the intricate battle. Loretta finished depositing a spore sample in its intended new residence, then placed the pipette tactfully upon the lab table.
“Do you truly believe you have a right to examine my relationship with Henry?” Loretta flexed her hand, examining the trustworthy extension of herself and purposefully ignoring Jane’s longing stare.
“Only in one… distinct area.”
“And what would that area be?”
“Love.” Jane whispered earnestly.
Loretta froze. That single word caught her off guard. She, Loretta Diolio, a graduate of Harvard Medical School, a dominating lioness in the field of academic microbiology, and (as some would call her) a heartless bitch, froze in the middle of the perfectly clean laboratory as if she were a fawn in front of a semi-truck.
“W-what about love?” Her mouth was dry. As dry as a million cotton balls left roasting in the Gobi desert.
“If you love him.” Jane’s lips hardly moved. It was as if they parted for air and simply let out a loose string of syllables and vowels for pleasure. Not communication.
Loretta’s pulse was incessant.
“No.” The word fell from her lips like lead.
“No I don’t.”
Something tugged at the corner of Jane’s lip. It was fast, and almost imperceptible, but it was there. A nymph perhaps. A nymph, fermenting mischief in a time of great sadness.
“Do you love me?”