Flash fiction · From the Margen catalogue
Take 14: the narrator refuses to say «potter's wheel»

—Take fourteen. Whenever you're ready, Quique.
—«Room three. Before you stands a potter's wheel from the first century, found in 1974 in the Cifuentes olive grove.» Amalia, this is being listened to by seventy-year-old gentlemen at eleven in the morning.
—They listen to it because it explains what they are looking at. I am the curator of this museum, Quique, and I have spent four years cataloguing that wheel.
—And I have spent twenty-two years on county radio. I'm telling you that by sentence fifteen the listener is already thinking about the car park.
—Take fifteen.
—«Room three. This is a potter's wheel. It is two thousand years old and it spins better than the chair at my radio station.»
—Quique.
—It's true. I tried it on Tuesday.
—Take sixteen.
The following Monday, Amalia put on the audio-guide headphones in room three to check the edit. An elderly couple was standing in front of the wheel. When they reached the fortieth second, they both laughed at the same time.
Amalia went back to the booth and left a note on the sound desk: «We're keeping take fifteen. Don't you dare record take seventeen.»