Monday - October 5 | 37 days until the conference | 487 registrations
When Victor got home, he went straight to bed. Denise made him a cup of tea, which was still left untouched on the nightstand when he was woken up at 4pm by the doorbell. The shrill sound rang uninterrupted until the moment his wife answered the door.
Victor had had a completely dreamless sleep. He longed to return to it, because the painful truth creeping into his brain was not to his liking. With his eyes tightly shut, he desperately tried to fall back to sleep. Fragments of the interview were flashing through his mind. What in God’s name had he said in that parking lot? At that moment, it had seemed logical to attack the activists, make his love for Pooky abundantly clear and admit that he might be defeated. But now, it all seemed rather pathetic to him. That’s what it had been. Pathetic and uncontrolled. Unworthy of any director.
Downstairs, in the hallway, he heard Casper’s familiar voice. He couldn't hear what he was saying, but he could make out that Denise was trying with all her might to make it clear her husband was not to be disturbed. He sat upright in the bed. Through a gap in the curtains, a wide sunbeam fell on the duvet. He sighed deeply. By the excitement in Casper’s voice, he could tell it was bad.
When he had finally gotten the attention of the press, he’d blown it. Victor wished he could do something to make up for his failure, but so far he had only made things worse. He punched the mattress with his fist.
Downstairs, Casper’s excitement grew. Victor heard the words ‘television performance’, ‘Instinct’ and ‘Twitter’ and his stomach began to ache. He got up and mechanically brushed his teeth, splashed some cold water on his face and combed his hair. It was time to face the music.
Casper looked at him as he came down the stairs, and ran up a couple of steps to meet him. The boy looked more radiant than in his pictures with Catja.
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Written by Gerrit Heijkoop & Paula Vos
Narrated by Kevin Stillwell
