the receiver stalls on piano instrumental . a woman’s voice , thin and brittle and worn with smoke , redirects his call with the essence of a graveyard waitress . overworked and underpaid . you’ve reached the elizabeth arkham asylum , how may i direct your call ? flat , dull . no energy was exhausted on pleasantries .
“ hello ? ” a voice , more animated than the last , but slow and cautionary nonetheless . her easy west - gotham cadence had been clearly deadened by anticipation of poor news .
“ harleen ! ” and his celebratory , enlivened by an unsounded orchestra of eagerness and poorly contained glee .
a loosened sense of dread coils itself in rings around her forefinger , raveled with telephone wire in a confusing amalgamation of violent allure . the unlasting lash of their silence swells like sepsis .
“ arthur . yeah … it’s arthur - ”
“ i don’t mean to hold you up at work , you’re a very busy woman . i’m calling to tell you that i found your extension in an old notebook of mine . from before , when we would talk . isn’t that funny ? you told me to call if i needed anything . you remember . ” her words struggle with her breath .
“ oh . arthur … ”
“ - and it got me thinking . you know what i need ? a meal . ”
“ arthur i don’t - ”
“ a nice meal . would you like to have dinner with me , harleen ? ”
there is another beat , unwillingly rapt in nature . this one the cold tip of a needle delicately suspending a large , mercurial balloon . a thin skin filled with something acerbic . she draws a breath .
“ maybe , arthur . i just don’t think that’s a good idea . ” a large and even exhale of dry , static air slips through his receiver and out the other . he closes his eyes , parts his lips . it were as if a two ton lead weight had been removed from the man’s chest . he stretches a cracking face of discount party paint into a wide , shit - eating grin .
“ that sounds wonderful . i’ll see you at five , harleen . ”
ꌚꑛꍟ ꌚꋫꂑꁕ ꐟꍟꌚ !! ꌚꑛꍟ ꓅ꑛꆂꐇꑛ꓅ ꂑ’ꁕ ꁹꍟꏝꍟ꒓ ꏸꋫ꒒꒒
a knock on the door , at this hour ? begrudgingly she forces herself up from the couch , gaze falling to the clock on the coffee table , looking away , then back again . 5:00 PM , murder red and expectant .
hands travel to face , wiping the afternoon nap from her eyes . to the door , robotic - like , she undoes the two locks . she opens the door , meeting eyes not with her landlord , but of all the people , a previous patient .
“ arthur ! ” she stills , swallowing thickly . worry pierces tone , not for her own safety , but his , latching onto immediate pity like a leech does to blood under the skin . “ what are you --- ” how did you --- shoulder drops lightly against door frame , feigning friendly casualness , finding the right smile amidst the confusion . “ i’m sorry , i wasn’t really expecting visitors . is .. everything okay ? ”
germansingergirl
vaporwave
baratheonpilled
stormborns
jbbartram-illu
areudirty
yousharknotpass
