Re: Video: Sam/Cris
[He would tell her suns don't have zipcodes, but she hangs up. So Cris heads upstairs with a glass of water. He checks in on Teresita, who's asleep, and he goes ahead and gets into bed, boxers beneath blankets, where he waits with his laptop facing him. But he's too old to sit and distract himself with the internet, so he just lies with his arm behind his head, eyes on the ceiling, glass balanced on his bare sternum, until the call comes through on his screen, obscuring the background of Teresa's grinning face.
He smiles, but it fades as he looks at Sam (and Rodin). It's obvious he's taking in the details of her place, of her face, of it all, before he finally speaks.
He looks tired too, but not like her, and the sun only managed to darken him. No powder. No gloss.] Hi, mami.