remote cards

Two men stand in the book store. Both grey haired. I can hear fragments of conversation. One of them is in a red jacket, shorter. The other has that smarter, over-coat, jacket, shirt, tie, just come from work thing going on. From the fragments, it would be suggested that at least one of them is a published author. If not both of them. I finished two of the books, the suit says, how about you? The casual says, something I don’t quite catch. Not quite the answer the first was looking for, he clarifies, there was that crime series you were doing? Oh yes, the second understands now, that’s finished. Really? Yes. Though - someone I don’t catch - has expressed interest - implication of someone related to television - implication of scripts - so yeah, I’m looking at some re-writes, some edits. Ah, and the conversation goes on like that. There is a crime season in the book shop, a half dozen crime authors doing signings. But none of those appear to be tonight, as I check the posters to try and work out if I should know who either of these men are.