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Shakespeare sat on a rock with his head in his hands, ignoring the striking and memorable views from the top of Table Mountain. “It’s hard to put my finger on exactly what it is,” he said. “I just get the feeling that it’s not working any more.”

Ronald McDonald looked down at his red and white striped socks, but didn’t say a word.

Shakespeare continued. “On the face of it, everything’s the same – we still interact the same way, we still appear to have the same sort of relationship. It’s almost like the subtext has changed.”

There was a long pause. Shakespeare remained motionless. Ronald McDonald looked up and turned his head towards the sun, squinting in the bright light. A soft wind made gentle whooshing noises from time to time, but other than that, all was completely silent until Shakespeare spoke again.

“It’s like the tension’s gone. We have the same passionate exchanges we always did, but we’re like actors playing roles now. There’s something artificial about it.”

Ronald McDonald brought his hands up to his temples and slowly pressed his bright red curls backwards, letting them spring back up again after his hands had passed. He exhaled audibly as he did so.

The bard picked up a pebble and idly tossed it in front of him. “I wonder whether this is what she wants any more. Even worse, I wonder if it’s what I want. Is this what it has to be like? Even if it’s in some way inevitable that the relationship will end up like this, will I ever want that? Is it something I have to come to terms with? Because I don’t think that I want to. I just don’t know what to do.”

Shakespeare twisted his neck to look up at the white-faced, red-haired man standing above him. Ronald McDonald sniffed and Shakespeare noticed how wet the clown’s eyes were. “What is it?” he asked.

“I just don’t think I’d realised,” said Ronald McDonald. “I was aware of it, on some level, but it wasn’t until you described it just then that I truly realised what was happening. It’s all so familiar to me. I’m going through the exact same thing with The Hamburglar.”

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Posted by Alex On September - 20 - 2011

One Response to “Looking out from Table Mountain”

  1. Ken from accounts says:

    Shakespeare’s always inadvertently offering insights into the lives of fast food restaurant clown mascots that cause them to reassess where they are in their relationships.

    And I should know.

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