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[population_ctrl]

Boredom is self-inflicted, isn't it?

[Chuckle.]

Go on. Losing at life is such a useful talent.

Comments

[population_ctrl]

It's a fairy tale, Mireille. Eventually, you'll disappoint him and he'll walk away.

[Voice lowering just a bit.]

You're too different. For something like that.

1/?

[unreadability]

[unreadability]

[unreadability]

[unreadability]

Loneliness takes a multitude of shapes. Surely.

[population_ctrl]

And people are blind.

Things will improve. I promise.

[unreadability]

Think of your image; it can't bear promises that aren't honoured.

[population_ctrl]

I know.

[unreadability]

In which case, we'll wait. And see.

[population_ctrl]

Like always.

[unreadability]

Choose one, Jean Louis! Either settle with my presence or accept my leave.

[population_ctrl]

I chose years ago!

[unreadability]

But you didn't marry me apiece.

[population_ctrl]

Obviously not.

[unreadability]

[Pause. They've... returned. To something safer. Better.]

I fear it must be a defect. In all wives. Such completion.

[population_ctrl]

[Mireille's humour is as dry as his own. Tonight, however, it's not overly effective.]

You are not leaving.

[unreadability]

For now. Which is of the essence.

[She turns to leave.]

[population_ctrl]

[He closes the distance between them, hands curving against her waist, front to her turned back. Mireille is not the only one who follows.]