Zlaw’s Echo

Two hooded silhouettes are walking along a muddy path in a dark forest, hands in their sleeves. “‘Oops’. I cannot believe that you said ‘Oops’,” grumbles one. “It just came out…” mumbles the other, apologetic. “It did. And is that not precisely the main cause of our current predicament? The fact that you just let things out of your mouth?” “What else do you think I should have said?” asks the accused, to which the accuser throws their hands in the air. “Pretty much anything would have most probably been better than ‘Oops’, including not a single word at all! This is the kind of onomatopoeia one lets out when spilling coffee, or salt, or sugar. Maybe a jar of pearls, or buttons, or something of the sort. At most when knocking over a knock-off vase, or rubbing shoulders with a stranger in a crowded street. Those are incidents worthy of an ‘Oops’.” “I did say I was sorry. You did hear me apologise profusely, did you not?” “Yeah, like that is going to cut it…” “I made a mistake. I...