Monday, April 6, 2020

An office on the second floor of a rowhome. Greg sits at a desk checking email. He sips alternating sips of coffee and water. Music plays gently under all of this. The drinking should drift into something shamen like. Hypnotic. His phone vibrates. He reads the text.

TEXT FROM HILARY: Where are my sneakers?

GREG: You can just come up and ask.

Hilary pokes her head in the office door.

HILARY: You were so quiet.

Greg hands Hilary her sneakers. She slips them on, give him a kiss on the top of the head and exits. Greg goes back to his working, sipping and working.