This was brilliant! At first I couldn't help cracking up at every bloody line--but somewhere around that half-gallon of wine, it took this sharp nosedive into tragedy, and I suppose it says something that this emotional turn wasn't at all shocking or jarring. It worked a kind of gestalt shift on the earlier bits, and suddenly there was a fascinating urgency to that groping about for words, that inability of words (anyone's words) to communicate affection meaningfully. The same shift works on Richard's silence, making his half-amused selective deafness into stony silence. Everything hardens around that kernel of tragedy, and no gestures or words or wants can soften it again.

Just fascinating work. Really thought-provoking.