Digital Ischemia

25/07/2017

Cold Call: Day 12

A series of telephone conversations where truth comes away in layers – begins at Cold Call: Day 1

SOUND: PHONE RINGS
LACRIMOSA: Hello?
SìMON: (D) I came up with a better response for your beached whale.
LACRIMOSA: I remembered another beached whale.
SìMON: Go on, then.
LACRIMOSA: I was camping on South Uist in the Hebrides – island hopping for students. I was following this burn through a gulley. Everything lovely till I got to the coast and started smelling something nasty. Why am I telling you this?
SìMON: Gi’e me a laugh?
LACRIMOSA: It’s awful.
SìMON: The clue’s in the name, Lacrimosa.
LACRIMOSA: It did upset me a bit, that massive, bloated, steaming, putrefying… It was unnatural: all cut up by fishing gear. I was stuck gawping at it a while, then I got the fear that with the sun on it any minute it would explode and shower everywhere with rotten flesh and maggots.
SìMON: Step away fae the ticking whale?
LACRIMOSA: Pretty much. Sorry, that wasn’t entertaining. I don’t know why I launched into that.
SìMON: Reality doesnae have to always be, you ken, happy.
LACRIMOSA: What was your comeback?
SìMON: Eh?
LACRIMOSA: You said you had a better response?
SìMON: Oh, aye. I think you look like someone with hidden depths. (PAUSE) That didnae sound as good as it did in my heid. Oh, I see what I’ve done there: cannae look at hidden things, can you?
LACRIMOSA: No, it’s that you think I look like anything. How would you know?
SìMON: Oh, it’s just a common word construction. I’m a visual person. I’m not stalking you.
LACRIMOSA: Wouldn’t be difficult.
SìMON: How?
LACRIMOSA: Never mind. I need to go: that’s the postie pulled up.
SìMON: No, you don’t. I’m sorry. Clumsy phrasing.
LACRIMOSA: I really do. Big load of kit due.

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