title: long play
author: jessica
mail: thegirlinglasses@illuminatedtext.com
date: may 10, 2003
notes: for researchminion. improv: snark, jazz, hands.
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Colin flips through the records in Ephram's still quiet room. Dr. Brown caught them on their way upstairs and now Colin is listening to a muffled conversation he's sure is about him.
"Sorry about that," Ephram says, walking through the door and making sure it's closed behind him. "My dad's somehow got it into his head that he can work the barbecue."
Colin sighs and lets a careful smile reach his lips. "You've got some great records," he says before Ephram can ask again if he's all right. More than therapy, or even life, the questions make Colin tired.
Ephram seems to know that. "You want to listen to jazz records? You know, we have these things called CDs now."
"Oh, there it is." Colin puts a hand on Ephram's shoulder. "Promise me that's the last coma joke I have to hear?"
"From me, maybe. I can't promise you the world."
Colin lets his hand fall down Ephram's arm, and something about the moment, whether the quiet or the confidence that Dr. Brown is busy outside, something lets him grab Ephram's hand.
"So." Ephram swallows heavily. "What did you want to listen to?"
Colin shakes his head, and squeezes his hand to keep Ephram from pulling away.
"Not the records. Will you play something for me?"
Ephram nods.