Visitors

Yes yes I agree, I do agree. I was standing to stretch but also to hint at an exit for my guest, I looked at the door. The pane in the centre was bright and unobstructed and I could see that no-one stood on the doorstep and so sank agitated back into the couch while my guest sat unmoved but for his jaw working in rhythm. The best thing though, he meditated, the absolute best thing about the film is the ending, the best ending of any film I’ve seen. He was constantly amazed at the never ending abundance of ploys those wily scriptwriters had stashed away. I didn’t want to tell him that this was much like his description of The furious blades of anger 3 or some awful car-racing film because then he would feel like he had to defend those films and would sift through their various merits and ernest monologues would enter. I just needed him to leave. So I sat crouched forward on the couch looking hunched and uncomfortable and spoke very little and hoped that he would guess I was in a rush for him to leave. Maybe it was this or maybe it was the call of the wild but he finally made a move and I gratefully escorted him hand on back to the door, clicked it open and clicked it shut after him, gone. I thought locking it would have been bad form really.
Somewhere around the middle of a stuttering piss inflamed by prostate cancer long time coming the doorbell went and I felt it impolite to shout from the toilet. I hurriedly half stopped and tried to zip and started to make my way to the door feeling the dread of piss coming from my crotch. I fumbled the latch and muttered a sorry to no-one, obscuring my lower half as I opened the door. And of course it wasn’t her. Dapper as always with hat half cocked was McGinty. Posing in the doorway waiting to be asked in, nothing really to say after his enthusiastic hello how are you usual. Will you come in? He would.
So we sat and I offered and he accepted and we drank and didn’t say much, not much to say. Sat there with the happy thoughtless head delirious. Conversation started, stopped, mumbled off, sip a drink. And a sip again, I was powering through in the hope that he’d keep up and be finished and be off but he swirled his glass and didn’t drink often having the practiced look of a man deep in thought on his face. He found enthusiasm in snow, in interesting clothing and shoes and in a range of unknown to me topics, making something like a no man’s land between our thoughts that we had no idea how to cross. So our conversations went like this usually characterised by silences and both trying to say something at the same time and politely backtracking and no go ahead there.
She had always had a thing for well turned out men, and he was a handsome devil, completely lacking in anything resembling a personality maybe but a pretty face goes a long way. His voice on the line in the morning in the background and the pictured face of her hushing him, apologies afterwards, I had to go.