c'est toi
I played the 03:16 clip for Félix in the mix room at lunch, on the good speakers. He listened twice, then once more with his eyes closed.
"C'est toi, man." It's you.
He says it's my dad voice, the one I do when I read bad subtitles out loud to make fun of them. He put it on the analyser, and the pitch does sit about where my dad voice sits. He also says the room tone around it is my bedroom: same hum, same baseboard ticking. Then he told me to sleep more and laughed at me for the rest of the afternoon.
On the way home I stopped at the dép on the corner for milk and cat litter. Ivy was behind the counter doing her homework and her dad was in the back filling the beer fridge. She asked how Patate is. Everybody on this street knows Patate better than they know me.
Her dad says February is lucky, so I bought a scratch ticket. Won two dollars. Spent them on chocolate.