The foyer was itself a cinematic epic, dazzling pictures of silver screen icons, bright, mirrored surfaces, people milling around made brilliant and reflective, starlike, by the light reflected off other reflections.
“See you inside,” she whispered, then disappeared.
I bought two tickets anyway and walked in. I couldn’t see her at first, she was slumped in a seat, legs over the back of the chair in front.
She laughed. “You paid for me? I said– oh never mind!”
Titles for The Feral Man appeared onscreen.
"This isn't about you then," she giggled.
I tried hard not to smile.
Jim M almost 5 years ago
I really feel the warmth of feeling here, very thoughtful and thought provoking