Let it come

A languid wrist towards the refrigerator door handle
The slow application of force
Increasing until the threshold magnetism is crossed
The sucking, tearing sound of the seal coming away
Bend at the waist
White light of the interior
Stare
Open mouth
Close mouth
Blink
Straighten
Step back beyond the arc of the door
Close
Dull bump of the door sealing against the metallic frame
Turn
Step toward the open space
He stands there staring at her
Open mouth
Inhale
Pause
Nothing
He raises his eyebrows
Then she speaks
— I don’t feel well.
Says it before she thinks it
Before she verifies the specifics of the sensation in her body
Blink
Raises a hand to her shoulder
Clutches gently
Then moves the hand over the breast
Ribcage
Then at the midriff
Stops
His eyes follow her hand
Then he twists to look back at the bathroom door
— No I don’t think it’s that, um,
He turns again to face her
Shifts his weight
Moves forward
Walks past her
She turns on her feet to watch him
Hand on her stomach
He approaches the refrigerator and stops
Stares
Turns
— I don’t understand.
But his voice makes her think he’s said nothing at all
— I don’t know. Maybe food.
Blink
Neutrality
— Like your friend who eats people.
Pause
— Friend?
She too is neutral
— The beast.
Blink
He turns again
Looks at the bathroom door
— I guess.
She does not know whether he responds to the subject of food
Or the subject of friendship
The thought dissolves
She turns her head to look out of the window
Afternoon
Turns to the main door in the opposite wall
Shifts weight and the body follows the face
She walks to the door
Exits
Quiet footsteps on carpet fading quickly to silence
The breath of the air
Quiet footsteps returning
The woman at the open door
He looks at her
Inhale through the nose
And moves
She watches him as he approaches
Then turns to the hall again and moves

They stand facing a cracked but otherwise unbroken window of a convenience-store
No-one
She approaches the doors
They whisper open
Without slowing her stride, she enters
Blink
Several short steps inside she stops
The doors whisper shut, slowing before they meet
Outside he examines the woman behind the glass
Standing with her back to him
The store is lit in blazing fluorescent
She squints
The skin around the outer corners of the man’s eyes tighten
Her head moves slightly to the side
Stare
Then slowly pans
Before her there are countless objects
Covered in text and imagery
Her eyes shift across each rack of items
Toward the side where freezers sit gaping upwards
Toward the rear where refrigerators stand stocked with vary-sized bottles
To the counter flush with the small, square faces of tiny packages
Blink
Inhale
Exhale
She turns around
Step
Step
Whisper of the doors
Exits
Slows toward the man
The doors whisper shut
She stops
Blink
Then he looks past her shoulder to the pattern of the cracked glass
Back to the face of the woman
She opens her mouth
— Do you know your way around here?
A quiet voice
She raises her hand to her stomach
— I don’t live here.
Stare
— Live?
The slightest of raised inflection
Or descending tone of question
Or nothing at all but the look on his face
She stares at him
— I’ve forgotten everything I’ve ever known.
The sound of her voice in the air
A part of it
Like the movement of nature itself
— I don’t think I can eat.
Blink
She thinks she has remarked it to herself
Perhaps she never spoke
— I’m not going to eat.
He inhales
The sound of air flowing into an expanding chest cavity
— You breathe.
— Yes.
— Your friend, he doesn’t breathe.
Blink
— Does that mean he’s not alive?
Talking aloud
Talking to herself
— Or that air isn’t a part of what makes him live?
She doesn’t expect an answer
— I don’t know what makes me live.
She sees the man before her
Sees the memories she has of him
Sees the presence of his body, its weight
Its movements, stillness and neutrality
— I don’t understand.
Its voice
— No I don’t think I ever have.
Inhale
— I breathe out of habit.
Blink
Stare
She looks down at the coarse concrete pavement
Scrape as she moves her foot
Turns and walks
He follows her with his head
Pans back to the store
A figure of a man is in the store
Looking out at him
It turns
Regards the objects before him
Lifts an arm, reaches forward and takes an item in his hand
Brings the item before his face and inspects it
The figure disappears
The item falls to the floor
Silent behind the glass
The item lies undisturbed
He turns to the woman walking slowly over the pavement
Shifts his weight
And follows