Re: [Trailer: Amy/Si]
Si didn't have wistful thoughts about the people who'd lived in the small missile of the bus before him, surrounded by its close, sarcophagus walls, tucked in even closer by the decor made loud, as if its echo would somehow make it feel bigger. But, Si didn't care where or what he lived in. He'd been homeless enough times that a bed was enough. And while he didn't have romantic notions as to Heathcliff and the like, he did consider the fabric of reality (in a compulsive, helpless way), and that..., well, it was something.
Hannah wouldn't win any awards for knowing Si would be high. He was an addict. Of course he was high. He looked down from his greater, looming height (which he hated, thanks to the fucking Tall Man) to Hannah. She was in this goldenrod yellow that seemed soothing and her words floated through the air as if it was water and they small bubbles of air, a vague whoosh. Her eyes were large and watery blue, and Si walked backward, shoulders rounded down, and he sat on the sofa-thing again with all the slowness of some great beast settling back down. "No," he said eventually of the car, even though he would. He stared at Hannah, like he was looking for where the veneer peeled, but without the intensity he might have sober. It wasn't even unhurried—that implies an awareness of 'hurrying.' It was just slow. "You think you owe me?" His question came with the same gear-grind of words, slow and corroded, and Si just waited for an answer. He counted, but it was habit, the numbers formed on his lips but went unsaid.