Simon Linington, Fall, 2018 | Courtesy of the artist

Simon Linington, Fall, 2018 | Courtesy of the artist


I sit on a chair whilst she stands opposite me. Her looking at me and me looking at her. Neither of us is moving.

“Are we?” I say.

“Yes Simon, we are,” she replies.

“And so?”

“Look Simon, I’m sorry.”

The front left leg of the chair I sit on gives way and I fall at her feet with arms stretched out in front of me. She says nothing. I get up, brush my palms together and reposition the leg under the chair. I sit back down slowly.

She looks at me a moment before turning to walk toward the door. Pulling it open she hesitates and looks back over her shoulder.



“Please close the door. Properly I mean.”

She raises her eyebrows and brings her left hand up to her hip.

“Close the door properly, I don’t know what might come in.”

The door clicks shut and she has gone.