a countdown.

Ted began the countdown.

“Ten – “ The production team was wedged into the control room, surrounded by screens and consoles. Chris, the talent, was on set. The cameras were poised to switch to live.

“Nine – “ “Where the fuck are they?” said the producer under her breath. The segment coming up was an interview with a couple of movie types, a director and an actress.

“Eight -” The producer spoke into her headpiece. “Have you seen them? Are they in the building? Do we have a sighting?” She listened intently.

“Seven -” A production assistant adopted his most soothing tone. “They’re here, they’re getting miked, they’ll make it.”

“Six -” The producer listened into her headpiece. Then she said, to the control room, “we have a sighting of Naomi. No sighting of Justin. But they’re in the building.”

“Five -” “They’re getting miked,” repeated the production assistant. “They’re both on their way to the set.”

“Four -” “They’re on their way, Chris.” On the set, Chris sat calmly, smiling like Mona Lisa.

“Three -” There was silence in the control room as everyone stared at the monitors. Chris waited.

“Two -” Two figures slipped into the two chairs opposite Chris at the interview desk on the set. “Nice skirt,” said Chris to Naomi.

“One -” Chris brushed her hair back with one hand and smiled into the camera.

 


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