Names is hiding in the grainy moonlight. Urging Fev towards somebody else's terrifying morning vision.
"So what!" Fev barely whispers. "It's big and shiny."
She talks over the track that is playing. The sound of feet running, people heavy breathing, voices finding each other. Violence.
"The ocean ..." he starts to explain.
But Fev doesn't have the patience for that. Not right now. She doesn't know if Names is a man or a woman but she imagines he's a man because anyone coming at her like this, at this hour, better be. And he better look like she's imagining him even though her own stereotyping annoys her.
"This is all in early light ..." he's pitching.
"The waxing moon dream sequence" his voice seductive-modulated-gaining speed.
"High tension."
Fev gets up and pulls a pair of jeans over her hot pink thong taking pleasure in knowing he'd hate it.
She opens the kitchen curtains rouses the rest of the household then goes out back and looks at this essential thing.
"Big deal!" She hisses.
"I don't know if I believe you." He states flatly.
She picks up where he left off her voice calm and detached.
"Selective color as things come into focus. Subtle. Clinical."
He sing-songs words to a childhood game. Emerges from his hiding place. It's awkward. In her fantasy he would have come up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, they would have looked outward together. His way makes them look at each other. Too much intensity for Fev. All of this scares her. The track comes back on. They hear a fatherly voice.