Life does not come with captions for a reason.

From Alfred’s journal

The library ran a silent film in the meeting room this afternoon and left the window blinds up, so I watched it from the ledge with no sound and no cards, since the cards were turned away from me. A woman slapped a man and then held his face. I decided she was furious; I decided she was saying goodbye; I decided she had just learned he was lying, and each of these felt complete for about four seconds. For years I thought the frustration was in the missing words, that if I could only get around to the front of the screen I would have the thing settled. But life does not come with captions for a reason, and I sat there inventing three endings and liking all of them. When the lights came up a man inside was crying and the woman beside him was checking her phone, and I have no card for that either.