Electra pounces on all fours on the bed. It scares the cat. She jumps up Mylar’s arm springs from his shoulder and runs to hide under the table where the record player is the needle still turning. She mews from her hiding place while Electra rubs her head against Mylar’s back. You notice she’s not really naked under the covers she’s wearing a white negligee. Mylar continues his work on his shoes.

ELECTRA:

You’re just as evil as I am, baby… You don’t like the rules. It’s not that you want to break them. You just wish they were different. Like it wasn’t always the same answer every time. And yes people look and yes people judge. Limited by what has already manipulated them. All those brand names we buy off the shelves. People fear what they don’t understand and a lot of times what they fear they underestimate they estimate it as to how they would respond and some things they can’t respond to—because they’re afraid they don’t know how. But you can’t let it make you mad, baby. What people say about you because they see one thing while someone else complains about something else and you just can’t forget like they forget—the contradictions—because it’s easy to forget how they look to you but not as easy to misplace how you look to them…

MYLAR:

That cat didn’t always belong to him.

ELECTRA:

Who?

MYLAR:

Yusef… That cat hung around with the former tenant. I told you about him—didn’t I?

Electra stands on her knees and for a moment with her shoulders back and her head tilted it would make a good picture a picture of a woman in bed on her knees behind her man and while Mylar continues to polish his shoe she begins massaging his shoulders.

ELECTRA:

The one who killed himself? Yes, you told me about him… I don’t want to talk about that. The cat never belonged to him. It’s the house’s cat. And besides I don’t like talking about that—death…

MYLAR:

Why? I heard different stories on why he did it. Some say it was for love.

ELECTRA:

It’s still breaking the rules. But you like that don’t you? How he came up with a different answer? It’s not always pleasant you know—Death. Sometimes it’s very sudden. And very violent. And if you see it if you see it happen you can’t really reconcile that it happens for a reason. To go like that…

MYLAR:

You’re just thinking of your grandfather again.

ELECTRA:

Maybe I am… I can still see it. The kitchen where it happened. I can still smell the baking bread. I was only four but every time I smell that the smell of baking bread it takes me back it takes me back to that kitchen… And I don’t know how to explain but sometimes people have death all over them and sometimes even they know it and you can’t help them you love them and you can’t help them… And that’s just about the saddest thing in the world. It’s sad because it answers itself.

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