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The kinds of conversations you have when you're high

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Simone had always had dulled senses. It didn't bother him, of course. He couldn't remember a time when he'd felt anything aside from a certain kind of boredom, so it wasn't like he worried about it too much. But he did wonder occasionally, between bumps of coke, because there was always that lull, an odd place where your thoughts went to, a place where it came to think about these private things. Balancing concepts and ideas was a difficult ordeal for Simone, but occasionally he got there, and when he did, they stuck around in him.

Thoughts fizzing and firing off in all splendid cocaine directions after a direct snort off a coffee table in his apartment, Simone was suddenly hit with a powerful image. A comic book he'd read as a kid. The pages were all there suddenly, real enough, it seemed, to flick through. He remembered sitting crouched over it as a kid, trying to read the basic words in the comic. A certain page young Simoncino had poured over had involved something about dogs, there had been a fact written somewhere about how dogs were colorblind.

Jesus!

He couldn't imagine being colorblind. Did dogs feel they were missing out on seeing colors? Did they wonder what other creatures had in their vision, just with their own eyes, and what they lacked themselves?

Simone snapped out of it, righting himself. Okay, okay. Fucking stupid thing to think about. Marcello knew a lot about dogs, so maybe when he saw him next time he'd ask about the colorblind thing. Yes. He'd ask. But he'd finish the rest of whatever coke he had left first.

A day later Marcello was patting an enormous Great Dane down when he saw Simone's shadow cross over the light from the shop window. He always made an attempt to greet Simone politely, and usually this act was always met with less hostility than if he didn't greet Simone at all, but today the awkward yet optimistic hello didn't put a stop to Simone's frown.

"Come to- eh, purchase?" Marcello asked, leaving the patient dog on the table behind him. He'd cut the rest of that floppy fringe off later, he decided.

Simone moved to look past Marcello, through the door to the groomers and at the dog instead.

Marcello met his gaze and then looked to where Simone seemed to look at, blinking in the light owlishly.

"Oh, that's Ox. He's big, isn't he?" Marcello said nervously, feeling confronted by Simone's ominous silence.

"Ox." Simone repeated mysteriously. Then he slapped a hand on Marcello's shoulder that made Marcello flinch, leaning in close in that typical Simone way of his.

"Dogs are colorblind, yes or no." Simone's sharp face swam into view.

"No." Marcello wondered what game his friend was playing this time. Was this the start of some strange ploy to get coke for free?

At this conflicting knowledge, Simone furrowed his brow.

"Do they see red? Blue?"

"Ah, no and yes." Simone reared back, glaring now.

"I thought you said they weren't colorblind!" He demanded, subconsciously gripping Marcello's shirt in a threatening display, a grip which he relaxed immediately when he saw Marcello look down to where his fist rested. He just wanted answers, was all. Straight forward answers. He laughed without explanation. Just some answers.

"It's... More complex than that." Marcello's eyes darted from side to side, confused and powerless against Simone's somewhat sadistic quiz he was giving him. What did he want? Why was he mad? Good God, was he high?

"Meaning." Simone made use of his space by sitting in one of the seats reserved for waiting owners and clients, communicating now that he had all day to wait for Marcello to explain.

"Well? Dogs aren't colorblind totally, but they are colorblind, in the- the sense that they lack the color processing cones we, as humans, have-" Ox started barking, sounding tired of his grooming session and angry he was being left alone in an unfamiliar room.

"I'll be there in a second!" Marcello called to his impatient customer.

Simone made a gesture, spurring Marcello to continue.

"So- they can see colors, but not like us. They see red and blue and green, but it would be limited." He was losing Simone. "Like orange! They wouldn't be able to see the difference between orange and red. But they'd see red."

Simone, looking like he wasn't listening, took this information in with a nod.

"Do they notice?" He asked.

"What?" Marcello frowned.

"Do dogs know they don't see orange!" Simone specified, irritated his question wasn't coming across right.

Marcello paused. "No. They wouldn't know any different. They're dogs, Simone." He chuckled uncertainly.

"Okay." Simone got up, opening the shop door so it slammed open with a force that sent the bell on top of it jangling like it was screaming.

"Your bell's broken." Simone pointed out.

"Oh?" Marcello glanced vaguely up at the doorframe. The bell wasn't broken.

Simone was already starting to walk away, leaving Marcello just as baffled as when he'd entered, asking about dogs and colors. In a way, he was relieved the experience was over. The man eventually straddled his bike, starting it up to speed off.

What an odd conversation. But one of their better ones, considering Simone caused much less damage than he usually did to his livelihood this time, and in fact only seemed to want to learn something...Suspicious.

"Come again!" He called out automatically, and then realized Simone wasn't exactly a regular customer you called that sort of thing to. He didn't even have a dog, not that Marcello knew of, anyway. Perhaps Simone would think of this as a weary bit of wit, considering he bought coke from Marcello, so in a way he was a customer-

Marcello shut the door of his shop.