"whoosh. whoooosh."
"i thought we were trying to sleep."
"that was nine days ago."
"no it wasn't - i can see your calender on your wall to the right of your harpsichord."
"well i can see yours to the left of yours and yours says 21."
"turn around, you strange projection of your strange projection of some strange suppressed part of your subconsciousness - your calender says 12. and what's more - it says 12 Aug, unlike mine - which just says guA 21 - and only if you think your '2's and your 'g's are written backwards!"
"you missed out the 'u's."
"it's a goddamned sans-serif, Rote."
"whoosh. whooosh."
"oh - ignoring me now, are we?"
"i though we were trying to sleep??"
"damn you."
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