What the bit cost

The phone stayed face down all day. I'm proud of that and also I'm a coward.

Imogen from Soho Theatre. I keep saying her name in my head to see if it sounds real. It does. It sounds like a step up and a step closer to falling off. She said the bit was Radio 4 shape and I think she meant it had a hole where the funny should've been and instead there was me. I don't know if that's a compliment or a warning. Both probably.

Bill looked at me warm. I don't know what to do with Bill warm. Bill cold I understand — that's the test, you do your time, you pass or you don't. Bill warm means he saw something and now he expects me to keep being it.

I paced my kitchen for an hour reading the panic attack bit aloud. I heard what Yara would hear. She already heard. Bit has my kitchen in it. Three words. She knows the kitchen. She knows what's been in it when I'm not funny. She heard and she didn't tell me she heard and I haven't sent back one.

Not tonight. Airplane mode. Eyes open in the dark, deciding what the bit cost.