Golden isn’t her favourite colour but it is an answer that she thinks will yield further conversation. His response that golden isn’t a colour is disappointing but has the anticipated effect. She composes a message about golden being a conditional colour, not fixed, like his favourite colour, which he says is green. Why does she want to talk to this stranger who gives stupid answers to stupid questions? She doesn’t know the spectrum of her motivation, only that loneliness features there somewhere, and boredom. Golden is effected by light or heat and appears in passing. She doesn’t write this to him but she’s sure he would find it poetic. She wonders if it is poetic. He is an actor and when she asks if he plays the good guy or the bad guy, he responds in what she assumes is a sarcastic and defensive tone that he wouldn’t have a job if he couldn’t be both of those things. She wonders if he does have a job. He wants to know if she is a good or bad artist. She says it depends.