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I lift up its cover just a little, just enough to see that it’s filled with messy scrawls. I think of him hunched over in the dark and using his phone for light, scribbling. I wonder if he has been writing about me. I finger its curved edge and lift it up a little more and then let it close again.
I know he talked about writing or being a writer the first time we hung out. He said if he had to label it he’d call it poetry. What if he really does write poetry? Or sex poetry? I chew my fingernails until they’re raw and a little bloody and then I realise he isn’t making any sounds.
I call his name, and then I call it louder. Outside a dog barks and a bus rumbles down the main road but he doesn’t respond. I don't care. He still doesn't respond so I try not caring harder. Silence.
Well if he has really gone he’s left his notebook behind. I nudge it towards the edge of the table so that I could say I’d knocked it by accident in case he was upset later that I had opened it without asking. It falls wide open. I pick it up and start reading.
It’s filled with a lot of female names, sketches, lists. One list is called ‘Things I’ve Broken’ and spans three pages. ‘Windowpane – cricket ball’, ‘Sister’s coloured pencils – snapped them.’ Then at the end ‘The best thing I ever had – the freedom I thought I wanted.’
On the final page, I find my name.
Created by: Em Meller | Edited by: Justin Wolfers | Directed by: Justin Wolfers and Jack McAvoy
Starring: Freyja Benjamin, Anton du Chateau | Cinematography: Jack McAvoy | Development: Elle Williams | Music by: Guerre