I saw a man at the post office today writing envelopes with a fountain pen like he was signing a treaty. It's pathetic, isn't it? All that effort for a bill payment. People think it adds soul, but it's just ink bleeding into cheap paper. I still use a ballpoint. It works. Why bother with the performance? My neighbor is staring at me again. He looks suspicious. We should keep our voices down. Everyone here is listening anyway.
It's the vanity of it. People want to feel like their lives have some weight when they're just drifting. It's exhausting. And ignore the neighbor; he's probably just looking for a reason to complain to the association. I saw him lingering by the balcony this morning. We don't need to be so obvious about it. Anyway, did you get the package I mentioned? The one with the heavy tape? I can't think someone opened it already.
I didn't see it. And don't worry about the association, he's a small man. If someone opened the box, they'd probably have told someone by now. I was busy dealing with that leak in the office. It's always something. You're too tense, though. Did you hear that in the hallway? The floorboards in this place are thin. I can hear them breathing through the walls. It's impossible to think straight like this.
The leak is just water, the whole building is rotting from the inside anyway. You're overthinking the noise. It's just the wood settling. If someone wanted to come in, they'd have kicked the door down. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder. I need to go to the store before it gets too late. Don't leave the door ajar while I'm gone. It's making me nervous.
I'll lock it, shut up. You're always hovering over the latch. It's just a door, Tess. If the building falls, it falls. I'm not going to watch the world end because you like a draft. I have things to finish anyway, and the store isn't going anywhere. Just get what you need and stop acting like every shadow is about to jump. someone picks up keys. It's exhausting watching you do it.
You're the one making the noise with those keys. It's pathetic how much you get worked up because I act like I'm looking for trouble. I'm just going for milk, Ivo. The air in here is so thick I can't breathe. If you're so bothered, go sit in the dark. I don't have the energy for your mood today. Just keep the curtains away from the window for once, will you?
The curtains stay where they are. I'm not opening them up just because you're feeling restless. Go get your milk. The air is thick because you're breathing all of it. And I'm not sitting in the dark, I'm trying to ignore the pacing. Just close the door properly when you get back. I heard a car outside earlier that didn't belong. It stayed too long. Just be careful.
A car? It's probably just the delivery driver lost again. You see conspiracies in every headlight now. I'm going, and if the car is still there when I get back, I'll take the long way around anyway. It doesn't matter. You're always so desperate for the perfect excuse to be miserable. Just don't touch the papers on the table while I'm gone. They're already gathering dust. I'm leaving now.
I won't touch your papers. They're useless anyway. Take the long way, if it makes you feel better. I don't care about the car or the driver. I'm not being miserable, I'm just paying attention while you clearly aren't. Just don't slam the door on your way out. The neighbors already have enough to talk about. I'm going back to my work. It's quiet enough when you're gone.
Quiet? Right. It's never quiet when you're hiding in that chair. I'll close the door, but I can't expect a miracle from your manners. Focus on your "work," whatever that is to be today—probably just staring at the wall. If I'm back and the light is moved, don't start with me. I'm tired of the games. Just stay there and keep out of yourself for once.
I haven't moved a thing. You're imagining games where there are only walls. My "work" is none of your business, and you wouldn't understand anyway. If the light looks different, it's because your eyes are failing you from exhaustion. Just come back with the milk and leave me in peace. I don't have the patience for this drama today. The hallway is getting cold. I can hear the footsteps again. Just hurry up.
The hallway is cold because the windows are ancient, Ivo. You hear footsteps because you want to listen for something to happen. I'm moving as fast as I can, and if you're so cold, put on a sweater. I don't need to understand your little ledgers. I'll be back in minutes. Just stop pacing; the floorboards are already screaming enough without your help.
I'm not pacing. I'm sitting perfectly still. If the boards are screaming, it's your own weight doing it. I don't need a sweater; the heat is fine enough if you stop fussing. Just get back. I'm tired of waiting for the door to click shut properly. You make every simple errand feel like a burden. I'm staying right here. Don't expect me to be at the door when you walk in.
I don't expect anything from you. Sit in the dark and be a statue for all I care. It is easier that way. The burden is being in this room with you, not getting a carton of milk. I'll stop worrying about the latch when I'm actually out. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen. If I find the door unlocked when I get back, I'm not even asking why. Just stay still for once.
Ten minutes? You're always making drama out of it. If the door is unlocked, it's because you didn't pull it shut. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm certainly not playing your statue. Just go. The silence is better anyway when you're not talking. I heard the elevator rattle again. Someone's on the floor. Don't be too long. The air is getting heavy.
The elevator is broken, Ivo. It's been rattling since I moved in and the landlord was useless. You're inventing ghosts just to have something to be afraid of. If the air is heavy, open a window. I'm walking out now. Don't be standing by the glass when I get back; I don't want to see your face. I'm beginning to think you're actually waiting for something to happen.
The landlord is useless, but that's not the point. I'm not waiting for anything, I'm just waiting for you to stop talking. If I open the window, the noise will come in, and then we'll have more to complain about. Go then. I won't be by the glass. I heard the door click. It didn't sound right, though. It's always the same with you. Just be back.
It clicked because I pulled it shut. You'll find a way to find a fault in a closed door. It's exhausting, how you deconstruct every little sound like it's some kind of high-stakes evidence. I'm gone now, so enjoy your silence while it lasts. Just don't start moving the furniture again; the layout feels like a draft. I'll be back when I'm back. Stop overthinking the arrangement.
I haven't moved the furniture. The layout is exactly as I left it. If you feel a draft, it's because the building is falling apart. I'm not overthinking anything; I'm just living in the space you occupy with so much noise. The silence won't last long once you come back start talking about the hallway. I'll be right here. Just don't expect me to greet you at the door.
I don't expect a greeting. I'd prefer the silence if you could actually manage it. You talk about occupying the space while the walls are literally crumbling around us. It's pathetic. I'm already losing my patience just thinking about coming back in there. If the building falls while I'm gone, don't bother calling. Just stay in your corner. It's safer for both of us.
I'm not calling anyone. If the walls fall, we'll find out the hard way. You talk about the end of the world like a way to be dramatic. I'm staying in my corner, just like you asked. It's the only place that makes sense. I heard a heavy thud from downstairs. Not the wind. Just get back with the milk. The silence is getting too loud.
The thud was probably the neighbor dropping his groceries. You're so desperate for a narrative you'll find one in a shadow. It's loud because you're listening with your own heartbeat. I'm at the store, and if the silence is too much for you, use your ears. I don't need to be your soundtrack. Just sit there and stop imagining things. I'm almost done.
Groceries don't make that sound. It was heavy, and solid. I know the difference of these floors. I'm not imagining things; I'm noticing the things you're too busy complaining to see. Just hurry. The light in the hallway started flickering, and I'm tired of watching the shadows. I'm not your soundtrack, Tess, just get the door closed. The waiting is getting on nerves.
The light is flickering because the wiring is ancient, not because of some omen. You see a horror movie in every blown fuse. I'm standing at the checkout now, and if the shadows bother you, close your eyes. I'm tired of you projecting your nerves onto me through the walls. I'm coming back, and if the door is open, I'm leaving it that way. Just be still for once for God's sake.