A conversation in a quiet place (fiction)
It took you a long time to write that… I found it difficult. This is mean and I’m not trying to make you laugh but; I could say the same about you but I’m not complaining. Not that mean, I’ve heard worse. Also, on what basis could you complain? Fair. Do you need anything? No, I think I’ll be fine. I didn’t go to work last week so I’m preemptively stressing for next week. You have lots of time to watch and read – you’ll be good. I’m already reading a lot. How was that? Fine. Just spoke about work of course, that’s all I can talk about. You didn’t write anything? No… I feel uneasy, kind of greasy. In what way? In your dress? It’s probably just the food. Definitely the food. Look at that… Looking out the window They watch from the second floor of a pale blue two-storey building. Below a club blows smoke out onto the pavement. Beside it, a parking lot, its boom gate and companion security booth, with windows blacked out. A greyhound is muzzled and tied to...