It's 8 p.m., on February the 14th. St-Valentine's day. The sky is a uniform, drab grey. There's a 45% chance of rain, but the pavement is mercifully dry. A few birds are fidgeting and occasionally letting out soft, pained sounding notes to avoid being swallowed by the heavy mid-winter monotony of London weather. Vanessa is sitting in a restaurant. She's tipsy because she's had just one glass of champagne too many. She's on a date of sorts with her 'friend' Josh. They've only ever met twice, and she doesn't really feel anything for him. Vanessa likes wearing short skirts, the smell of freshly applied nail polish and staying up late at night reading trashy magazines as she savours the sour delights of being made privy to her favourite celebrity's dirty little secrets. Christopher is going over customer files in a dim room. He thinks he's putting in some extra hours at the office but he's really waiting for the telephone to ring. He's hoping it'll be one of the few women he's come across outside of his work duties in the past months, women who accepted his telephone number with elusive smiles and then never thought of him again. Christopher likes jogging along obscure city streets early in the morning, looking at travel brochures whilst fantasizing about trips he'll never go on, and the comfort of eating banana sandwiches late at night when he's had a bad day. Guy is surfing the Internet. He does that a lot. He doesn't like watching television and finds eating his TV-dinner alone at his kitchen counter depressing. Guy likes to write theatre reviews that never get published, philosophical conversations with close friends, and reading books that feel comfortably heavy on his lap. Guy also finds the smooth surface of his computer's mouse held solidly in his palm very soothing and enjoys hearing the 'click-click-click' sound it makes when he presses it's buttons. Right now, Guy's eyes are flicking back and forth across the screen. His mouth is open and his pupils are strangely dilated. His heart rate is rising as his mouse goes 'click' again and again. That he should have stumbled across this, tonight of all nights, is a sign. Guy can't believe his eyes. |