Using two random names from my Facebook…
THE WORD IS LOVE.
Lynden: …And the Word was God. We had to write a scene around that.
Kanika: Mmmm….that’s a good one, I guess. You can get a lot out of
God. The big man has nothing if not staying power.
Lynden: God – still inspiring atheists the world over.
Kanika: You’ve…such a way with words.
Lynden: Shall we keep going? We can stay here…
Kanika: No, I think that’s enough.
Lynden: It’s not much more – we just/ took a look…
Kanika: To be honest, I don’t think I’ll both with most of it . Sorry. So much else on. It’s too bloody nice an evening to be thinking about God.
Sorry. I know you took some good notes. Really useful notes.
She goes to pat him on the shoulder, does it once, then stops.
Lynden: Fine. Cool. No problem. A drink then? I. Am. Thirsty!
Kanika: Oooh….I would love to.
Kanika: But I’ve given up drinking.
Lynden: Since when?
Kanika: Last week.
Lynden: But weren’t you drunk on Friday? At your party?
Kanika: No, that was art. An intense…spewing, art. There were tribal influences, tough on a Western audience. You must’ve missed the introduction.
Lynden: Right, well. Dinner then? There’s a great Korean place around the corner.
Kanika: You know, I’m on this new diet. Good food is wasted on me. Worms. Jihading my colon…
Lynden: Kanika…look…I just need to say…
Kanika: Oh God no.
Lynden: I/ don’t know how…
Kanika: Oooh is that the time?
Lynden: It’s a/ little bit tricky.
Kanika: My housemate will be awfully worried….
Kanika: Yes, Lara .
Lynden: I mean, just at the party…while you were…performing….
Lynden: It just kinda happened.
Kanika: But…but…it can’t have done!
Lynden: I know, I didn’t expect it either! But occasionally, occasionally in the vigorous washing machine of love, even the strongest colours can bleed/…
Kanika: …This makes no sense…
Lynden: … and the dazzling red pants, and the whitest of socks – previously with no recourse for a match, find themselves thrashed together by fate and watery booze, and they flush entwined into the Kingdom of Pink.
Lynden: Anyway…I threw up on your parakeet. Stuffed him behind the sofa cushion. Sorry.