Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Word:Pococurante


pococurante

[poh-koh-koo-ran-tee, -rahn-, -kyoo-; Italian paw-kaw-koo-rahn-te]

noun, plural pococuranti
[poh-koh-koo-ran-tee, -rahn-, -kyoo-; Italian paw-kaw-koo-rahn-tee] (Show IPA)
1. a careless or indifferent person.
adjective
2. caring little; indifferent; nonchalant.
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Henry dashed into the room.  His eyes were open wide, his clothes sported large sweat stains, and his
breathing was heavy.  He ran into the apartment and headed straight for the kitchen. He pulled the 
fridge door open and removed every bottle of water he could get his hands on.  All this went largely
 unnoticed by Henry’s roommate, Gus. Gus sat on the couch with a glassy look in his eyes while
 playing a video game.
    Once Henry had emptied the fridge of water bottles, he turned to his roommate and ran over to the
 heavyset man.
    “Gus, we’ve gotta get ready.  You need to get everything you need.  Clothes, food, water, batteries,
 flashlights, lighters.  Anything you think can help us survive.”
    “Huh?” Gus said, moving just enough to keep the screen in view.
    “We need to get moving fast.” Henry said.
    “Why?”
    “Why?  Haven’t you been paying attention?  Haven’t you heard anything that’s happening outside 
right now?”
    “Not really.”
    “Of course not.” Henry sighed.  His panic returned in full force a second later.  “It’s the end of the 
world, man. The apocalypse. The end times.  We’ve gotta move. Get out of the city and somewhere
 where we can protect ourselves.  Oh, we’ll need weapons. Uh, Uh.”
He started moving around the apartment before returning to the kitchen.  He pulled out every
knife he could. He froze suddenly and headed towards his room.  
“My sword!  That’s it, that’s what we need.”  He dashed into his room and came back with a
katana.  He drew the blade to check it over. Then he remembered it was a decorative blade
 made out of cheap metal and was duller than the average butter knife.  The blade was
 promptly discarded.
“Dude, what are you still sitting there for?” Henry asked.  Gus was still rooted to the couch, and
 had yet to even turn his game off.  “Didn’t you hear a word I said? If we stay here, we’ll die!”
“Meh.”
“Meh?  Meh? Is that all you can say?”
Gus shrugged his shoulders.
“Seriously?”
“I’d have to move.  I’d really rather not run around.”
Henry’s eye twitched.  A part of him really was not all that surprised, but he chose to ignore that
part.  “Even if it means your imminent death?”
“Meh.” Gus said again.
“Don’t you have any desire to live?”
“Eh, I had a good run.”
That got Henry to actually pause in his furious preparations.  How could anyone be so 
indifferent to their own death? He knew Gus cared little about anything other than video games,
 but even that had to have its limit.
    “It won’t be pretty, you know.  Like, horrible, painful, screaming tortuous death.” Henry tired.  He was
met by a noncommittal shrug. He took a deep breath. “You know it’s only a matter of time before the
 power grid fails, right?  What’ll you do then? You can’t play games with no power.”
Gus blinked a few times.  He paused his game and slowly reached over to a nearby end table.
He opened the small drawer inside it and pulled out an old handheld game system.
“I got a back up.” Gus said.  His voice radiated his lack of concern about anything else.
Henry once again paused.  “Okay, you know what? Fine.  Stay here and die. I’m getting out
 while I still can.  I hope you enjoy your last few hours on Earth.”
Henry ended the conversation, shoved everything he could into a large backpack and dashed
out the door.  Gus followed his former roommate as he ran out into the hall.
“Wonder what that was about.  Oh well. Couldn’t have been very important."
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 This song should make a decent accompaniment to this one. Enjoy, and don't forget your
 apocalypse preparation packs.

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