WIDOW MUSIC

( phone rings )

You listening?

Lola?

Can you hear that from your place?

The music? Yes. Must be Donaghn’s.

It is. Dreadful.

Wanna meet… grab a beer? This is silly - we’re only four blocks…it's half way.

Noo. That singer…can you hear her? So mournful… …strumming that awful guitar. Celtic widow music.

I don’t exactly hear the same dour subtleties that you hear…her voice from this side of town, is more lyrical, wafting, echoing...Haunting...Evangelical.  Lola...?

Yes?
                                                
Feeling glum tonight, are we?

I won’t be damaging my wrists, if that’s your fear. But anymore of that baleful whine and I just might jump out this window...become evangelical myself.

Not funny. Have a drink. Come on.

No really. I’m done with Donaghn’s.

Clever.

True, though.

Somewhere quieter?

Ya…home. Alone. Quiet.

I understand….and won’t take it personal. It’s just started to rain.

I know.

(thunder)

Oh!

"You felt that?"

"I did and that does it..."

Can I call you in the morning?

Okay.

G’night.

G’night.