They sit around the paint spattered table, rolling cigarettes and picking morsels of browning fruit and salad from the wooden bowls which were full to the brim an hour ago. Nobody speaks. Some chew, others smoke or drink or any combination of the three. The fragmented moon casts broken shadows across the patio, slanting negative images of discarded toys onto the grey slabs.
Angus takes a breath as if to speak but changes his mind. He picks a strand of tobacco from between his lips.
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Anna Mae slides some squished banana from beneath her thumbnail with the prong of a fork. Her brother smokes quietly to her left, exhaling in a fast puff through pouty lips. She catches his tormented eye and stops his unspoken words with an invisible shake of her platinum cropped head.
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Ralphie watches Anna Mae and thinks about following her next time she goes to the bogs for a line, thinks about grabbing her waist from behind and forcing her down onto the fancy orange tiles. He would too, if it wasn’t for the fact that Angus would kill him in his sleep. He pretends to check his shoe lace and sneaks a look up her short skirt from under the table. If it wasn’t for her bloody twin, Ralphie was sure he could trick Anna Mae into going back to his gaff for a ride
(((((((((((you)))))))))) this is beautifully atmospheric
Perfect.
amazing…an indie film, a paris cafe, a subtle textured
fragment of life.