Questions at the Morning Table — Key and Skinjo

Morning light divided the table between Key’s ring of keys and Skinjo’s paint-stained notebook. The screen still said it was checking the browser.

“Clonal hematopoiesis,” Key said. “We came for a paper about mutations accumulating in blood cells with age. We got a locked door. I could guess what’s behind it.”

“You could also guess my next painting from the cupboard handle,” Skinjo said, turning to a blank page.

“Some handles are informative.”

“Then let’s give this one its due: we haven’t read the article.”

Key moved the screen aside. “What would unlock the discussion?”

“Questions.” Skinjo poised a pencil. “What question did the researchers ask? Who or what did they study? How did they identify and measure the mutations? Did they follow changes over time, or compare different groups?”

“And what did they actually find?” Key asked.

“Along with the uncertainty, the limitations, and what their methods cannot tell us.”

“I was about to offer a theory.”

“Leave it outside the quotation marks.”

Key drew a small square beside each question. “No answers smuggled in as findings.”

Skinjo wrote across the top: Questions for when we can read it.

The cups were still warm. They had not opened the paper, but at least they had stopped speaking as though they had.