Waves
Phone static
The noise of electricity flowing through copper
As if each electron holds a tiny chime
— Joe?
The voice is alien over the noise
– I’m going to need some time off.
— Of-course, it’s about time. How much do you need?
Pause
Static
– Two weeks.
— Take four, no arguments.
Static
Click
And in my dreams it’s quiet
Desert
My father in the marines
– Stay out of the army son, it’s no good for you.
But I’m locked in his body
Jogging down a dusty road at night
Someone ahead waving hand-signals that I don’t recognise
I feel my body throw itself down on the embankment by the road
More hand-signals
Somewhere a concussive explosion
The streetlights, lights of the city go out
I pull something in-front of my face
The world in green
The sky lighting up with tiny points of light
Awake
Sitting on the floor by the phone, leaning against the wall
Handset in my hand
The screen and keypad are flashing slowly
I can’t hear anything
Press the button
The phone stays lit
Lift the handset to my ear
—
Nothing
—
Not even static
— Jody are you there?
– Ev.
— Oh my god Jody are you alright?
Pause
Phone static again
– How did you know I was home?
— Patrick called.
Patrick
– What did he say?
— He said you were taking leave.
– Did he ask you to check in on me?
Pause
— Yeah.
Pause
— Was that wrong?
– Not at all.
Pause
— Joe?
– Thanks Evelyn.
— Um, that’s ok.
– Hey I’m so happy for you.
— What? Joe I can hardly hear you.
– I’m happy for you. About the baby.
— … Thanks Joe.
– I really am. We’re going to have so much fun together.
A single tear
A tear for the honesty in my words
For the desperation clinging to that joy
The feeling that it’s all falling away
— Joe?
I can’t hear anything
—
Back into the darkness
I don’t know how long my eyes have been open
The apartment is partially lit by sunlight
Harsh, bright light
Sharp shadows
It’s too bright
Get up
Close the blinds
Stand in the centre of the apartment
Inhale
Exhale
Disappearing
Standing in the shower
Watching droplets fall from my body
Silent
I feel tired
So tired
Kneel
Hard tiles
The weight of my body
Pulling awareness away from me
Fragments of memory
Towel
Bedroom
Clothes
Hall
Kitchen
Fridge
Open fridge
Close fridge
Dry-reaching over the toilet
Voices in the blackness
– There’s nothing like it…
– Let me dance with you…
– When that first flare lights up the sky…
– I’m sorry…
– Joe? Pick up the phone…
– It goes from deathly quiet to deafening in an instant…
– I’m coming over OK?
– You wouldn’t believe how loud it is…
– Patrick’s giving me your spare keys…
– Stay out of the army son…
– Take four weeks…
Cycling
Things real and imagined
Shifting from fragment to fragment
– Will you accept me?
Everything is stuck to the wall
Standing out impossibly into the space of the apartment
The objects are fastened to the wall on my left
Reaching out to the right
Silence
Then the clunk of a door-lock
Rattle and chime of keys
Dull thump of a door closing
Eyes open
There’s a cushion between my head and the wall
In-front of me there is a woman
A cushion at her head also
Slowly my senses tune to the force of gravity
I’m on the floor
The woman opens her eyes
They’re moist with tears
– Cam.
I whisper
Lift my hand slowly to her face
She sniffs
– Did you do this?
I motion my head against the cushion
She nods
– You didn’t have to come…
But she gives a quiet wail
Moves her body towards me
Takes my head in her hands
I feel her lips on my forehead
Then she cradles me, crying
Her body feels like colour in a monochrome room
Slowly I move my arm to her waist, embracing her
I close my eyes