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know…” she pressed her knees together, “what sort of music do you listen to?” They drove past a black and white sign indicating the posted speed.
    Janet was lying on her back, “Why are you leaving,” as a pair of headlights crossed her bedroom ceiling, “if she isn’t coming back until Tuesday?” Mark stepped into the legs, “because I’ve got to,” of his designer jeans, “that’s why.” “Well,” Janet sighed, “thanks for stopping by.” “Listen I’m sorry,” he adjusted his belt in the dim light from the half-open window, “I’ve got to go.” She rolled onto her side, “At four-o’clock in the morning?” and rested her forehead in the palm of her left hand. He glanced at the faint blue dial on his diving watch, “it’s three-thirty,” a gift from her, “I should have left hours ago,” that he’d been reluctant to accept until she told him how much it cost. “Isn’t today a holiday?” She persisted as he reached for his shirt, “stay with me please…you just said—” “I’ve got to be out there,” he pushed his arms through the sleeves, “by nine,” and buttoned it up. “Stay with me,” they were both embarrassed by, “stay with me until I fall asleep,” her urgency. Shoving in the tails, “I’ve got to go uptown and shower.” She made a face, “mine works too you know.” He stepped into his shoes before leaning over the bed, “then walk Bruno,” and kissed her on the mouth. Turning her head away from his wet lips, “I hope he shits on your rug.” He walked out of the bedroom, “I’ll call you.” She said, “don’t bother,” as he crossed her living room. The front door slammed and then his rapid footfalls descended the flight of stairs. She swung her legs off the bed and crossed to the window as he bounded off the stoop just in time to wave down a passing cab.
    A breeze from the open window chilled the sweat on her chest and thighs as the cab sped away. The yellow glow from the streetlight pooled on the pavement and on the hoods of the parked cars. Janet turned away from the window and discovered Esther on the end of the bed diligently licking her bushy tail. She took her camisole off a pillow and put it on while walking into the living room. After turning the locks and sliding the brass chain onto the door, she removed her makeup in the bathroom mirror. Two damp cotton balls smeared with pale foundation were tossed into the empty metal garbage can beneath the sink. Sitting on the toilet seat and wiping off his semen with a wad of toilet paper before peeing. She looked down at her pale feet and dark red toenails on the black and white tiles.
    Janet pulled back the top sheet and lay on the bed before pointing the remote at the television. As she adjusted the pillows behind her shoulders a terse male voice recounted the three-day hostage crisis in Beslan accompanied by a video clip of a lifeless girl in the arms of her weeping mother. She turned to a beach-front infomercial pitching energy boosting vitamin supplements, then to a music video with synchronized animated torsos gyrating in time to pulsating techno, then to handheld video footage of a massive RNC demonstration interspersed with scenes from Bush’s acceptance speech, before turning the television off.

An Older Lover –Act 1

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    â€œY ou know my roommate is out of town,” he shifted in the seat, “So maybe we can skip that play and go back to my apartment?” She placed her napkin on the table, “you said that you wanted to see it.” He raised his hands, “it’s probably going to be very,” and flexed his middle and index fingers back and forth to quote the word, “experimental.” She giggled, “Don’t you mean pretentious?”