- If you love me, why don't you stay home and let me shine? Is it me?
- What about me? I want to shine. Next to you.
- You've already burned yours out. Find a husband, start a family, do not interfere with those who are younger...
- Bolder and stupider?
- I'm not stupider. And without impudence, nothing can be achieved.
- All lies. You have to listen to your heart.
- Heart? What nonsense! Did you listen to your heart when you conquered this scene?
- No. So I know exactly what mistakes I made.
- But you cannot understand your most important thing. It is time for you to leave. You are outdated. The mask no longer hides... wrinkles. And your breasts? It does not look even in the corset. Leave with dignity.
- Without you?
- Of course, without me. I will not fall for your subtle tricks. To embarrass me? As if I hadn't been told about your meanness, cunning, and fear of oblivion.
- There are operations. Now it is not the Middle Ages.
- And you are stuck in them.
- You insult a woman.
- Did I hurt you? I'm sorry.
It's funny that she enjoys these lines. It's as if it compensates for the losses in real life. But she knows she will return to our house on the same terms as she left for work today. She will win back the right to be on top again. It will take a long time, waving thin hands, covering the cold kitchen with ash, and continue to talk from other people's lines, occasionally improvising.
- If you loved me...
- Turn the phrase. It is doubtful about my feelings. And you are sure that I love you. Are you sure? Do not pant with indignation. Love the words, as if they were yours, family, not someone else's pen.
- These are my words! And you!...
- A little older. I think a little more. I don't wear a hairpiece, I have enough of my own hair.
- Laughing, huh?
- I laugh. Is it so obvious? Your cigarette is gone.
- To hell with it!
- In the shower?
- On the couch!
- Good night.
It is funny to sleep separately. Funny and cold, but hot. I can't help but wonder how she feels on the huge bed, who will warm her legs, whether she likes the ceiling or not. They cling to each other, mate with a grid of one pronoun and tickle the brain. So much fun to love a woman, especially an actress. They play in everything, even in the negligee. Acting proudly and unassailable, then lewd and frivolous, depends on what role in her head, whose dead words knock out a tap of emotion.
- Now I'm sure you don't love me.
- What is this conclusion from? Coffee?
- Yes, thank you, black. And make toasts. If you... Don't interrupt, for God's sake, I remember your lecture about the importance of words. If you loved me, which I doubt very much... And jam. Short-leaved, I guess. If you loved me, you would have come to my bed no matter what I said.
- I'm just trying to respect...
- You don't like it!
- Be careful with the cup. It's porcelain, not basement ceramics.
- Do you value the cup more?
- I can't understand whose role you're trying on.
- Don't frown, wrinkles... Frowny.
- Ah, don't gloat. Wrinkles will still appear, just like yours. Just because life is the most jealous rivalry.
- You take the conversation away.
- Me? Or maybe an omelette?
- Are you kidding me? It smells like... with eggs. And yes, you are.
- Maybe we should break up.
You can't joke with women stupidly. They believe every word and start suffocating. Pale, blush, green. And some may faint. Having broken expensive porcelain, covered the floor with a soft carpet of black hair and frightened half a laugh.
- I was always jealous of your beauty and success.
- Clarissa, honey, there's nothing to envy. You have youth and potential.
- Will you really take me out of this rotten city?
- Away from decomposition.
- Forever?
- Forever.
- And our parents?
- They will accept it. You already have eighteen, and I am over thirty. We do not depend on anyone, we have enough money for two.
- And when will we leave?
- Do you want today?
- Yes! I do! Today!
- Gather round.
- What to take?
- What will you consider necessary?
- Can I get a fiancé?
- Mo... Who?
- The groom. You know, hands, legs, head and penis. Of course, he also has a torso.
- But you...
- You thought I would believe you? To you? Yes, even if you love it, what of it? How old are you? A little over thirty? I will be nineteen in May. You are old to me... dragged around... are unpromising. I am nineteen!
- Five with strength.
- Are you smiling?
- Of course. You are spoilt and capricious as I once was. That's probably why I fell in love that I saw myself. I always enjoyed narcissism.
- That is... Do you not love me?
- Don't look pale. I didn't say that. Conquer the high lights, shine diamonds, nothing else, enjoy.
- That is... There will be no village?
- No.
- And evenings by the fireplace?
- No. No.
- And what about...?
- No, it is not.
Sometimes it seems that it is not her heroine who cries, but herself. Her heart shrinks despite her pride (I am her pain and she is good, but I am her pain). She is unconscionably good, she is given the roles of nineteen-year-olds, and this fool with a white nose strives for those over thirty. She will be so eager to join Dorothy's league, which her heroine so loves to send to the village, to the worms.
