When
Brother Skunk finally drew the bolt and pulled the lightcord in the staff
toilet to emerge into the corridor adjacent to the shopfloor, he collided with
the manager who had been standing there with her arms folded for how long he
did not want to think. She tipped her
head forward a fraction, simultaneously raising a single eyebrow that Skunk
found sarcastic, even threatening.
Skunk:
What?
cog:
How long do you think you’ve been in
there?
Skunk
(faking bewilderment): What?
cog:
Now Skunk don’t, that’s not what... All I’m saying is how long do you think
you’ve been
Skunk:
God damn I do not know. I don’t know.
Too long? Not long enough?
and
then swallowing.
Skunk;
I’ve been in there for as damn well
long as I think I can get away with.
His
boss moved to the door connecting the corridor to the bookshop proper, pushed
it to, and closed.
cog
(crossing back to Skunk, speaking in an attempt to defuse his anger): Look,
Skunk, can we just
making
a placatory gesture with her raised palm
cog:
I understand that things, that... We’re concerned about you, I know
Skunk:
What are you, what’s, you’re not concerned, you’re not concerned. This is... I
know what this is, you’re just, you’re all watching me and staring at me like
I’m some God damn like I’m a a a car wreck, you’re just curious to watch
someone to who, when their heart’s imploding...
and
shouting
Skunk:
I AM CAVING IN! and what? What do you, what, you think you understand and you,
here’s here’s what you have to understand okay? My. Mum. Is. Dead. Okay?
and
then shouting again
Skunk:
MY MUM IS DEAD! MY MUM IS DEAD!
Pause.
Skunk:
MY MUM IS DEAD!
