…
The lights are off. I am sitting on the leather couch with
the television on. The late-night news plays
at low volume. The glow from the screen rests
on the walls. The fridge hums from the kitchen.
…
The newscaster is wearing a tight-fitting navy suit.
He sits behind a white desk that reflects the light.
He says “The Prime Minister spoke at the press club
this morning about the necessity for economic reform.”
…
The compressor in the fridge turns off
and the TV noise cuts through the room.
I reach for the remote
and turn the volume down.
A street reporter in a white shirt
stands outside a shopping centre.
She says “Police will attend the scene
once the investigation is concluded.”
…
I sit back into the couch.
The TV shows a crowd waving placards.
A voice says “Thousands gathered today in an anti-racism march.”
…
The screen shows a box of medication
above lines of small script.
The voice says “Azartane. Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, confusion, and semantics.”
…
The fridge compressor starts again and I adjust the volume.
The newsreader returns and says “A tragedy unfolded at the Riverside markets today, when an area of scaffolding collapsed.”
…
A car stops outside and two doors thud closed.
I stand and leave the room, my shadow falling before me on the hallway wall.