Minnie and her husband Adam were unusually quiet on their way home from the theatre. Adam was the actor, the star. Adam had to kiss his co-star Caitriona three times during the play because it was in the script.
“Did you want something to eat?” Adam finally asked.
“I don't care,” Minnie said, staring out the window.
“Chinese? Greek? Maybe a burger?” Adam asked, taking his finger and pointing to the restaurants as they passed them.
“Well, too late now. There they go,” Minnie said, fussily flicking her hand and waving to the restaurants, their signs. Shadows of people. Lurking. Waiting. Too hungry or too full.
“I can go back,” he said, tapping the brake gently. Slowing.
“Nope. I'll eat something at home.”
“Are you angry with me?” he asked as he let off the brake, gunned the car forward.
It was late. A Thursday night hinting at a stormy early morning. As they'd walked out of the theatre, the sky had been a black-violet dream. The diamond stars, out just long enough to create wonder, were now hidden behind smoke-grey puffs slipping across the missing moon.