he’s sat on the sofa, arms folded, looking really unimpressed. this is his living room, his home, and yet here he is watching tv he doesn’t want to watch.

            “I’ve picked a flower for you.”

    Oh, strange child.  Once you were shy, you would not approach a stranger thus.  But your father is dead --- murdered! --- and your brother is away --- abandoned you! --- and your lover is no lover any longer --- or perhaps he never was.  And you, pitiful creature, who makes madness beautiful, are as brave and free now as any.  

         Ghostbusters had been showing at a vintage cinema he was well acquainted with, and naturally Casper had found himself going. But when the movie started, there had to have been about five other people in the screening with him. Five other people, and a really weird feeling. Like he was being watched. Four out of five people were couples, and they had their arms around each other, totally distracted. So he knew it couldn’t have been them. He spied over his shoulder to see a young man a couple of rows behind him, but why should he be interested in Casper? It must’ve been him staring -- because he was sure that someone was looking at him throughout the movie -- but why?

So, as he left the screening after the movie was over, he got a better look at the guy. Oh man, it was someone he recognised. From where? Casper didn’t recall a name, but he knew that they’d definitely met in person, and that Cas hadn’t seen this guy’s face on the news as some mass-murderer or something. They ended up walking more or less side-by-side, and also being held up as the two girls from the separate pair of couples had a mini-debate as to who should leave the room first (’after you!’ ‘nah, don’t worry about it. after you.’ ‘haha i insist!’ ‘it’s fine haha!’).

So conversation was struck.