m. 031. a lone phone box on a street corner . / @trueblu3 feat. satine.
there's the sound of traffic , an overpass above them as they stand on a corner. a sign for wayne botanical garden's ! looms over them - only five blocks away. ' i've gotta check in ' the two of them move within midtown , ' give me a minute ' steps inside phone booth as he picks up phone and dials oswald's number.
the line thrills two times before anyone picks up. matches watches satine as she leans against booth , and flashes her a smile. blonde hair turned white in the hazy moonlight , her own transformed into a carmine red as the lighting from above sets the scene.
there's a dampness to the night , a threat of rain that never relents. for a few minutes oswald chews his ear off about how he's not keeping an eye on midtown mall , that things are falling through the cracks. matches detects the slight panic in oswald's voice - an indication that the war with sofia falcone was taking it's toll.
' yeah , yeah i'll stake it out ... don't worry , what you think the big ole' bat is gonna come out to get me ? ' laugh emboldened by a knowledge that only he can outsmart the bat , ' trust me oz , you're worrying about shit that'll never touch us ' - phone hung up as the final exchange results in pacifying whatever fears oswald had.
phone placed back on receiver as he inhales and then goes to rub temples. ' wanna go to the wayne botanical gardens ? ' he gestures up at sign , ' mall can wait ... plus it closes in an hour ' his unique accent hugs wording in all the right places , manages to somehow sound endearing as he reaches inside jacket for a packet of cigarettes. ' it'll make up for the shitty pit stop '
i haven't seen the gardens since i was young , i remember my mother holding my hand as she beamed. it was probably one of the few times she felt pride. a botanical garden founded by her very name - she spent an inordinate amount of time there. i still remember all the names of the various flowers and plants that occupy space. i'm getting off track , and that cigarette has been held between my fingertips for too long. i orchestrate a smile , and hold up a lighter - at last moving the night along.
' or we could stay here '