Talk to Him | outlines
‘You really should talk to him.’
‘You really should talk to him.’
What about the formalities. What about her voice. What about all these eyes, and all these hands, and all this noise. Well — what about it? Emily caught herself turning away. She held one foot firm at the threshold. Her heart wavered on the line.
‘What?’
And Emily finally got a clear glimpse of Amanda. Her glossed lips half-parted from the heat. Hair wild. One hand clutching to a crumpling paper cup — those little paper cones that Jamie brought to take shots in. Its contents, sloshing, were unknown. Emily braced against the doorframe as Amanda came crashing in. The smell of spirits, the taste of salt on skin — Emily felt the torrent of the crowd flood over her. Until she found herself dragged back into the whirpool. The blazing swirls of canopy lights added to all the disheveled spectacle. Like bruised and battered corpses, Emily thought. All covered in flashing reds and whites and glaring greens — they twirled under the open summer night.
‘I said -’
Amanda’s speech was lumbered, pitched like a siren, screaming above the bass-boosted speakers;
‘- You should talk to him!’
Emily couldn’t hear, but she nodded along anyway.
