Marisol trusted rituals. They were punctual, undemanding, and less likely to disappear. At the same hour each evening, she warmed milk in the Eternal Glass and let Clara explain why forever had failed again. The microwave clicked. The evening could begin.
On Tender Institution, Paolo and Loretta required very little: two steaks, a jar of pickles, and the correct amount of mustard. They laughed when the script required it. They also laughed when it did not. Between takes, someone lowered a camera. Loretta drank water beside the barbecue and adjusted the part of herself that belonged to television.“My wig is on vacation,” she said. “I’m not.” Paolo laughed. The scene had ended. Their pleasure had not.
Marisol placed the Eternal Glass and a teacup on the table, then counted five biscuits. Five had always been an inconvenient number. When Paolo laughed again, she laughed with him. Then she reached across the table, took the biscuit beside the teacup, and ate it without looking away from the screen. The programme resumed. The teacup waited. The fifth biscuit did not. Broadcast ongoing. Record incomplete.
