sub rosa

Gliding in a bank up the street.

It's starting to rain.

Dot, dot, dash, dash.

The window pane flexes like a lung in the wind.

In and then out.

"Magic fingers"

She laughs.

"And that's our secret language is it?"

"I'd know it anywhere"

"You said it"

"Did I?"

"Uh-huh, you said, quote. "The sole function of dialogue in a screenplay is to progress narrative""

"Really? I said that?"

"You really did"

"Wow, I am almost never that articulate"

"You had been drinking"

"Can I come over?"

"Sure come over and you can tell me about how art is everything again"

"Is it still raining?"

"Hold on I'll go look"