She opens the fridge, gets out food in cartons, heats it up. He yells, “Kaaaatyaaa! Hey! Anything to eat?” She jumps out. The car has pictures on it of Agent Smith in glasses: one Agent per door. The long-drawn-out crunching of the gravel outside. On their trips he takes pictures of her, but doesn’t talk much. An elevator like a tea glass in its tea glass holder. The railings are metallic, the furniture’s polished. ILONA: The house is big and transparent, like a soap bubble. KATYA: A wealthy woman nearing middle age
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |