surveillance, sheriton hotel, an addendum

“… setup the surveillance equipment and watch them, forward the feed to me…” The south side of the hotel had balconies on the upper floors. They were all empty except for the one he was watching, half a floor lower down, across the road. As he watched one of them laughed. The sound of the laughter overlaid on the sounds of the city on a summer night. Just more noises in the waiting and watching period before the morning. They had opened the balcony doors and had only been standing outside for a short time. He hadn’t see them arrive. He was hidden behind silvered one way glass. The window to one side was slightly open. Invisible he watched. Invisible they watched. The watcher is reading The restlessness of the negative, “There is nothing illogical about this logic; it is not mad, perverted or acrobatic logic… no identity is given”. He looks up from the page. This wasn’t the first time they kissed. He could see them in the lights from the room and the balcony. As he kissed her, his hands touched her body, her breasts. They were talking, very softly, so softly the microphone was capturing nothing. Perhaps, looking at the way they were standing together, he imagined they speaking the first words of love, confessing. Above where the watcher was sitting, a sign that announced the name of the building or corporation, was flashing on and off, a pattern of light which reflected onto the hotel. It was an irregular pattern. But it made their standing together, their kisses irregular, brilliantly illuminated, a conjoined shape. Was it on her face, her cheek or eyes that he had first kissed her, had she kissed him first on the lips, clumsily perhaps ? The watcher couldn’t know, they couldn’t know. She was touching his face. Her eyes were the colour of fear in the afternoon, to see them approach was to know fear, though the watcher did not know the colour of her eyes. As he relaxed away from her body, they both turned to face outwards, still speaking softly. How could I not know the colour of her eyes, black or gray? He opens the paper file and looks to see if its documented. He sits across the road, on the chair looking at the screen rather than trough the window now, waiting for the night to pass. In the morning, it would all be over, he could remove the equipment and leave. It was impossible to misunderstand what the watcher was seeing. The clouds were getting heavier, it would rain soon. As the first raindrops begin to fall, they would separate and make the observation more sporadic. Except….

She followed him onto the balcony. Standing close to him. She touched his face. She was saying, you should leave, in the morning when I go to the meeting, you should stay here, when they aren’t looking leave, you can vanish, don’t come with me it is dangerous. He said, No I am coming with you, you can’t go into this on your own. I can’t leave you alone like that. Look, she says, touching his face with both hands. Knowing it was a caress and that she couldn’t help herself. Look, it will be very dangerous. They might simply want to kill me. I’m coming with you because someone needs to be on your sides, I will carry your bag. Stop trying to persuade me to desert you. I don’t think I can and I don’t want to. And kissed her. Your hopeless, she said. His serious expression evaporated and he laughed. I just think we are more likely to survive together than alone after this. If they try and kill you, they are bound to kill me afterwards. As he said this to her, She smoothed her shirt, adjusted his collar, brushed his shoulders and turned away, she stretches, he leans against the balcony, saying something. She carries out a few practice kicks and punches. I don’t know why I am happy, he said, I’d like some time to find out. Perhaps later we could go to the cinema, a few bookshops, the park, shopping, I don’t know. Some banal everyday things. That sounds very exciting she says. She is standing on on leg, her arms stretched out. Let’s watch TV, listen to music, read books, let’s see what the future brings, she says. And then they are bound to be watching us recording our every move and gesture. The words escape them…

He couldn’t help watching them, they were standing in the shadows, almost silhouetted except for the intermittent flashing. Couldn’t help watching them. He could still see them. She was pivoting and making a few practice kicks and punches, they were laughing. How can they be happy in this situation ? He has been told they have no future. Gusts of wind ran between the buildings bringing the shower with it. A few more minutes and the rain would be heavier, sweeping in from the bay, people would seek shelter, they would leave the balcony. Leaving the doors open. Through the open doors he would watch them moving around the room, eventually sitting together on the sofa watching television, holding one another, being together. What were they watching on the screen he wondered. They looked happy, intensified by the unknown future tomorrow would bring. They didn’t know, they knew less than the watchers, the people who knew were reading papers and preparing for the meeting tomorrow. Nothing though would separate them for this night. More waiting, half drawn blinds, the bed becoming invisible behind the blinds. More waiting and the impatience of waiting became increasingly intense for the watcher, it was after midnight. She was stoking his face, her other hand across his body, he was pointing at something on the television. How could she be so close to this person the watcher wondered. It was clear now, a temporary notification of forever.

It was after midnight. Summer. The lights of the room went off, they went to bed. The watchers imagination went wild. He watched, read more of his book, spoke to other people watching others across the city, a mesh network of watchers, each watcher a node. After a while some food, a chicken katsu bento box was delivered he ate it around one or two in the morning whilst drinking white tea. Thankyou he said when the box was delivered. Late to eat, the delivery man said. It’s going to be a long night, he told him, glad to speak to someone…

And then it was a little later, the last lights went off. The night had arrived and they had little space for anything left, even the wave front of love collapsed before their tiredness. He fell asleep almost instantly, she thought it was funny how things were developing. There was so little space for love in these few days, she was amused at how unfulfilled she felt. The sign was still flashing, she got out of bed, listening to his breathing and shut the remaining blinds. Even then the flashes of the sign kept lighting up the shape of her desire. She read a few pages of a technophiles magazine in the half light of her bedside lamp. Half asleep, on his side facing her, his right arm touching her body. They were here, there, folded in each others arms motionless and then asleep. They slept rather than devour each other. She hoped they would have enough time to devour each other later…