his heart is like the brains of a woodpecker – fortified against emotional contusion, but she didn’t know this. the affair between kora and aj started at the company’s end-of-year party, but solo only found out three months later. “is she good?” he stared at aj across his huge office table in the media company they owned as equal partners. the sun was in his face, but aj knew there was nothing warm within solo’s soul. he has seen him do business and knows he takes no prisoners, so he feared the pleasurable worst. “this is what we will do,” and he went on to tell aj his plans. thursday. 20:16. kora and solo are having supper when there’s a knock on the door. kora opens the door, it’s aj. her heart skips a bit – this is unusual. she leads him to the dining room, he greets and hands solo an envelope. “did he like it?” he is staring at aj. aj averts his eyes, “yea, he did. but he thinks we should cut it.” he asks to use the loo – but walks familiarly towards it. “what’s in the envelope?” solo removes a wad of money and a digital video-tape from the envelope. kora is looking at solo from across a plate of hardly touched food. “payment for a project we are working on.” aj returns, says his ‘goodbyes’ and leaves. friday. 06:13. kora is still in bed as solo prepares to leave for work. he takes her key to the house, puts it in his breast pocket, but leaves the back door unlocked. it was safe, no one who isn’t expected would enter the house. friday. 18:00. kora is in the kitchen getting something from the fridge – she has been working all day on her next tv series, and is having a hard time closing the pilot. she closes the door of the fridge – and aj is standing right there. just like that. out of nowhere. she is shocked but pleased to see him. then they do what has become custom for six months. he wants more, she is scared they have no time. but he is unperturbed by time – this was no borrowed time. 19:30. they hear a key turn in the lock, aj scrambles out through the back door. solo enters and walks straight to the kitchen. he is carrying a small cake box. “you look flustered.” solo is looking at kora the glow from the open fridge in his face – he isn’t hot. “i have a slight fever.” he hands her the small cake box. “don’t feel like cake right now, solo.” she is burning up. “please.” he hardly uses the word. she looks at him and opens the small cake box. “oh, solo.” he smiles. “and your response?” she runs out of the kitchen into the toilet in the hallway. “kora, you’ll have to come out of there.” he waits several seconds and the toilet door opens. “yes, i will.” 19:46. solo and aj are sitting in aj’s car outside solo’s compound. it’s dark all around except the glow from the music system. “you took longer.” aj stares through the windshield. mute. he winds down the glass on his side, the smell of dead creatures unearthed by the recent storms hit his nostrils. he winds up the glass. he reaches forward, opens the glove compartment and hands solo an envelope – similar to the one from thursday. solo takes the envelope, taps it against his forearm, looks straight at aj – unblinking: “we will have to renegotiate the cost. she agreed to marry me.”

fkregieblog 2016