For this week’s exercise, I decided to try my hand at a wordless conversation; it’s been a while. Though the exercise was my idea, the characters I used were a prompt from someone else, and it got a bit odd. I’m not entirely sure I’m going to understand how Dexter and Rukan , of all people, managed to end up in… well, this.
Rukan is in the lobby of the embassy when Dexter arrives. He says something, extends a hand with a slight bow. She offers him a cushion, he laughs and scoots it aside, sitting instead on unsoftened floor by the low table. A careful watcher might see Rukan’s eyes flick ceilingward. Maybe. She laughs again, and whisks herself out of the room, leaving him to look about–but only long enough to scan the room before she returns with tea, and shallow cups, and plates of small, probably mochi-based snacks. She places cups and snacks in front of both of them, pours his tea, then kneels down behind her side of the table and waits, smiling, watching him closely.
He pours her tea. His posture is now a hair more rigid, his movements precise. When the tea is finished, at precisely the amount expected for such an event, he sets the pot back down, plants one elbow on the table and leans forward on it, and one hand extended, asks a question, his head tilting at the last word. She laughs again–her hand in front of her mouth, her shoulders slipping backward, the muscles about her eyes tightening, but only for a moment–then she is herself leaning over the low table to give her response. He smiles, thin-lipped, and gets up, letting his jacket swing about him as he tosses it back on; Rukan stands as well, her movements strong and direct–raises a hand, very clearly indicates the door. Dexter half-bows, with an extra flourish; he is stepping backwards before the bow has ended.
It is only after he leaves that Rukan rummages out a broom and begins to sweep hairline ruts into the polished wood floor.