and they know, they must know, they must have seen heard, felt, running through the tension now, like a net, like honey, but too sweet, too sticky, it gets in their eyes, their noses, their feet trip them up but they scamper, yell, laugh, scream through the house, unstoppable, unknowable. they know and he can’t bear to look at them, wants to only hear their laughter, convince himself they don’t know when they must surely do. it’s in her voice, they listen to it, to her, because it’s off, it’s tired, it’s broken and where other children would take the upper hand these two stop and listen, to listen, the net having caught them and she says, she says, “be quiet, your father’s working”
no. he strains, he doesn’t want to hear it. close up, eyes squeezed tight. he’s listening to them listening, about to know, she says, “come here, there’s something we need to tell you”
silence. silence. don’t break it.
but she does.

Silence.
On and on it goes. Late into the night and still. He’s not home. Hasn’t been home for quite some time. He sleeps next to me, bed edge, at a moment’s notice. But not here, not for quite some time. And I lay on my back and watch him. Where did he go? When did he die?
Break it.

you’d think with time it would be easier. you’d think with a boy and a girl and work and birthdays and weddings it would be easier with him. and sometimes it is. sometime i can just forget and look at him and love him and see the promise of everything he had said to me at the diner when we first had met serving him a plate of sausage and eggs, sausage split please and how he had made a point of it and i knew then and there i don’t know why, but i knew i could believe every word he said and he talked to much and seemed so embarrassed to be spilling over himself, spilling himself over me and i was entranced, i was stupidly in love with him right then and there but didn’t believe, couldn’t believe that this stranger out of nowhere in from the rain would want me, and then, and then, and then

And I knew all these things but didn’t learn anything.

Silence. Break it.
He sits wide eyed hand just before his mouth 23, 34, 57, 81 prattling on all for the words if it weren’t for the words youthful thin close cropped stocky heavy a bushel of hair taut grey withered all through time the meaty lips if it weren’t for the words she would’ve left me she would’ve stayed fingers an inch from lips eyes into the blue haze of the tv screen on and on whisper into the dark and the words never fully took hold of me of her of us just this divisive nature of language and all the details scurried out of reach out of my tongue and I could’ve said anything would’ve said anything but for here but for here but for here, no-
Break it.

Silence.
Break it.
Camera shot, interior. Still shot. Pastic fruit in a wicker basket on a table. Too close, focus, slight jitter, cut-
The edge of a window pane, bottom left corner, only three angles, bulb of dried paint once white along right edge, and through the pane, out of focus, maybe a yellow slide, or shed, or flower. Slight jitter, cut-
The back of his head, at angle, as if we were ooking over his right shoulder, just the neck, the ear, the edge of his jaw. Just beyond, the outer edge of a mirror, the sound of water running from an unseen faucet. Hold, slight jitter, cut-
Full shot of her in a room sitting on a bed, curtains hiding the windows and the glare of a terrible sun. As if we were standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her bare knees in a loose tank top. Still the sound of water running, slight jitter. Cut-
Black. Water running.
Silence. Break it.

Silence.
Break it.
If you leave it here it will rot. She says, if you leave it here no one will care for it, certainly not me. Not me, she says. No, not me I will not care fit if you leave it here and it will go to waste, it will rot, it will become all wither and full of maggots and someone will have to clean it up but it won’t be me. No. If you leave it here be man enough to clean up your mess. No-
He says, no, I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough, thank you but I’m full. And instead they put more on his plate, they smile and insist and place their hands on his shoulders and lean their faces closer to his on each side and smile and coax and bring the plate closer underneath his chin and the table cloth is immaculate and his nails are pristine and their teeth are so very white and the glint of the fork catches the color of the room in such a way that he says, alright, alright, alright, just one more bite. No-
Silence. Break it.

silence. break it.
the ragamirole of his thoughts, spindly legs over rotted wood with floor boards peeling up where the nails were never driven and he had never been driven, only obsessed with details and the limits of what he could know and he wanted to know everything, everywhere, where did she go, whom did she speak with, how were her legs crossed and on and on it went until his father told him he was stupid.no-
Camera shot, exterior, dolly left. She comes into focus. She watches the door to the backyard, we watch her from behind watching the house, watching the door. Slowly pan out, children come into view, both on their knees, picking dandelions, laughing at weeds. Coming into view, top of the frame we see him in a window on the second floor, hand parting the curtains, mostly grey behind the screen. Watching her watching the door while we watch. Fade to black, children still laughing.

silence. break it.
she sits around and twiddles her thumbs. she sits around and twiddles her thumbs. she sits around and thinks of the affair and wonders if she ever smelled her off him, some rank smell that escaped her noticed but was there mocking her and sitting in her chair scratching her thumbs she wonders if she’s smelling it now as he comes through the door after the rain, sopping wet from her, no-
she doesn’t sit around. she doesn’t sit around waiting for him. he’s waiting for her. long days engrossed with the children, the house, the bills, the mortgage, the car he never drives because she’s always taking it to work and leaving him stranded with all this responsibility. it was sensible, he was sensible. they got by on her alone. her alone and they were getting by with him alone and the children alone and the stray cat that crossed the street in the lonely night looking for vermin, no-
silence. break it.