I’m at some rich place.
There is a sickly woman here.
I’m hungry and I get out some pizzas. I eat one right away then I wait while the oven heats up for the second one. The first pizza is from a different restaurant than the other. The pizza is made by developers. We talk about it and I emphaticly agree that developers are cool. ??This pizza will make a computer or will turn into a program?? The conversation is quiet and cultured, with the birds tweeting outside.
We like one another and we take off my pants and plaid shirt and get to it.
Then we run outside onto the gravel parking lot; it’s like she’s escaping from her desperate life. She falls in front of a posh car as it parks.
Inside the car is her husband and his mistress/business associate. She looks up at him, headlights glaring into her.
There is an understanding that its an open marriage because she’s sickly. It’s her loss; my relationship with her is a settling of sorts. The mistress gets out; she’s very businesslike, same as the husband.
We go back to our room… there’s actually two pants and plaid shirts.