your united flight paper ticket confirmation - July 8, 2009 - Sydney to Los Angeles
-Will I be waiting in vain if I wait for you to give me a lift?
-Yes Maddy I will give you a list when I finish this page.
I saw her today at the reception. A glass of wine in her hand. I knew she would meet her connection. At her feet was a footloose man.
Hi Craig. How's your head where the pavement bit you? I have a letter in the making for you.
All these interruptions fly sideways round the room. Oh so much to say but no one ever writes a conversation down. Maddy walks off to the kitchen and clatters silverware onto the tin basin. Opens and closes the fridge. The record ends and the needle jumps and the arm auto-returns. The item goes back into the fridge, I hear the door open and close.
There are loose steps of boots on timber floor panels. How thick? Veneer. A bell and a tink of a spoon on the sink. Maddy walks over to the record player, takes of the stones and puts it away. She puts nothing new on the player. She walks into the kitchen and back out again. Out of the living room backstage behind the scriptwriter, out of sight. Nothing left to say. Waiting around for a lift. Re-enters the living room and stands over the should reading what is written and what is being written. A furrowed brow. Leans in closer, closed smile, a smirk, then a whispy smile and a kiss on the lips. Broadens her smile and shows teeth. Breathes smelly breath in face.
Go clean your teeth!
A jab into the side of the guts provokes laughter and a short retreat, but returns to the table smiling and giggling quietly. She reads intently. Patting her head Maddy backs away to the wall. Stands there like a gumby waiting. Bends over and shows her arse. Thinks I am still typing about her and I but not in the sense of the previous style, but a meta this is what I think now sort of way. Some time during the day she'll go home and help another goober live in an emerald house.