Bone China looks down at her hands, and says nothing. After a while, she lights a cigarette, and smokes it, carefully looking anywhere except in Scapula’s direction.
Scapula stands, silent, staring pensively at the horizon. He listens to the soft sound of another cigarette being smoked very quietly, very slowly. Eventually, when it grows too dark to see the distant horizon, wordlessly, he goes inside.
Sitting slumped in an over-large chair in his ‘war room’, he drinks. And drinks. Cautious, measured sips of whatever came to hand.
He’ll wait. She’ll still be there tomorrow.
Maybe, by then, they’ll both have the courage to hear her answer.
Bone China looks down at her hands, and says nothing. After a while, she lights a cigarette, and smokes it, carefully looking anywhere except in Scapula’s direction.
Scapula stands, silent, staring pensively at the horizon. He listens to the soft sound of another cigarette being smoked very quietly, very slowly. Eventually, when it grows too dark to see the distant horizon, wordlessly, he goes inside.
Sitting slumped in an over-large chair in his ‘war room’, he drinks. And drinks. Cautious, measured sips of whatever came to hand.
He’ll wait. She’ll still be there tomorrow.
Maybe, by then, they’ll both have the courage to hear her answer.
Maybe.