Poo-tee-weet?
“You can’t find the words?” Dr. Brown suggested.
There was a tinge of anxiety in the healer’s voice, and he shifted about, putting body English on whatever Eliot was about to do.
“I can’t find the words,” Eliot agreed.
“Well, said the Senator, “if you can’t put it into words, you certainly can’t use it at a sanity hearing.”
Eliot nodded in appreciation of the truth of this. “Did— did I even begin to put it into words?”
“You simply announced,” said the Senator, “that you had just been struck by an idea that would clear up this whole mess instantly, beautiful and fairly. And then you looked up in a tree.”
“Um,” said Eliot. He pretended to think, then shrugged. “Whatever it was, it’s slipped my mind.”
Kurt Vonnegut, God bless you, Mr. Rosewater
