By the time Walt reaches the top of the stairs, he can hear that his daughter and her husband are at it- he can't bring himself to think about making love or even fucking at that moment- and the sounds are so easy for him to make out, he's at first delighted by people- Jesus, his daughter!- making love except in the movies? She giggles, he groans, long breaths are let out and grabbed back in. The duet has the most incredible, indescribable fluid life, and he can't bear it.
He reaches into his blazer pocket for the recorder he always carries in case he wants to tape random thoughts or reminders, or just the noise of what happens. If you didn't know who or what it was? he wonders. He thinks of a radio contest he used to listen to as a boy where you tried to identify certain sounds- a sewing machine whirring, crackers being broken, a cat licking herself. Can I pretend this is not my daughter, he thinks now, but just noise too? Would you know it wasn't love?
- Hester Kaplan // 2010 (The Edge of Marriage: Would You Know It Wasn't Love?)