EPISODE NINETEEN, SCENE ONE

{ DRIVEN BY CLOCKWORK }

certain that she sees the stillness. the flat surface of the water, interrupted for a pause: something there and not there, disturbing her sense of time. the waves unaltered, long enough to be defined by their outline. it is easy enough for her to recognize that everything has stopped. after duchess has moved away from the window, a shadow strolls beneath the surface of the sea.

duchess will wait until tomorrow.

darling pushes open the door, going over the room, line by line. the furniture is as it always has been, faithful. the arrangement is not very likable, but it will do. the entire room is open to the influence of the window, where duchess stands all day long, gazing with an intensity that cannot be ignored. in the middle of the room sits the davenport with the coffee table before it. the fireplace in the middle of the room is burning, as ever - and the entire space smells of smoke and roses. is this my room? darling says. the space is common. she turns to the window, where the sea waits. will watching it make me a bad girl? darling says.

in her own room there is turbulence, discarded belongings; yesterday’s dress thrown over the lampshade, crumpled stockings kicked under the bed. the springs creaking like a ship, lost at sea. darling has been lonely here, pretending she is stronger. nothing can persuade her to turn out the light: she leaves it burning, pushing away the noises that won’t quite… that want some attention. darling bites inside of her mouth, drawing blood.

i think there is someone in the house, darling says.