Tuesday, 20 October 2015

When I open the door the room has been ransacked. Papers have rained down over everything, drawers are pulled out and upended on the floor, chairs are knocked over and the blinds are tangled and bent, strings knotted permanently. Half the lightbulbs are burnt out and several are broken off in the spartan fixtures. The memory thief made a break and enter, I think.

Sorry, Bridge. I had some work to do in here. I'll tidy up within the week.

Why didn't you ask me, Sam?

You were busy.

What were you looking for?

Some of the good parts so I have enough ammunition for the war coming up. I aim to wound but it better be good, you know what I mean?

I do. I nod at him. I've decided to attend the war unarmed for once and see if I can make it out unscathed.

I just want to bring you down in a positive way that won't scar, if it comes to that.

I understand.

I didn't mean to leave it in such a mess, though. I didn't think you'd be in here, to be honest.

I'm in here every day. What are you talking about?

Which files did you access?

Whatever I want. Why? Am I suddenly not allowed?

I'd prefer it if you waited for me to go with you. It's so dark and bleak. Almost dangerous.

I know. It's easier that way, Sam.

I know it is.

But what exactly were you looking for that involves knocking over chairs?

The rest of the letters, Bridget. I'd like to find them before you do.