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Monday, July 24, 2006
The character in the movie was so like him. And the storyline. God, that storyline glued her to her seat and made her want to flee the room at the same time. But no, she hadn't cried and she wasn't going to cry. It was done and that was all.

The credits rolled and she rose slowly from the couch and said her goodbyes with the soundtrack still playing in her brain. Though it was pouring, she walked slowly to her car, unable to shake the feeling that she was somehow on the verge of something, the edge of something.

It was about then that the fireworks started. The last hurrah of some summer carnival nearby. That the noise shook her car felt right somehow, like it matched the frequency of her body. She drove away with colors spreading across her field of vision, looking like an impressionst painting through the raindrops. The lump in her throat turned into a sob and the sob turned into a force she couldn't stop. She cried and drove, her love exploding into pieces in the sky above her, leaving only the smell of gunpowder in the air and a smoky haze under every streetlight.
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
  • At 4:51 PM, Blogger Sally said…

    You should be writing a book, woman.

    Speaking of movies, you should see the movie "Gaslight" starring Ingrid Bergman. When I first heard the term "gaslighting" I was like "wtf is that?" and for some reason I saw Roger Ebert and Gene Siskal reviewing it even though it was an ancient movie, so I saw it when it was on tv. But I bet you could rent it from Netflix or somewhere.

    In the movie, the house is light with gas lights. Gas was on a central system in London, like electric power nowdays. The gaslight would be really low one day or really high the next or suddenly darken, constantly freaking Ingrid Bergman out but her husband denied the gas lights had changed.

  • At 6:20 PM, Blogger Becky said…

    Nice post. Like Sally, I'd love to see something longer from you.

  • At 9:22 PM, Blogger Sarah said…

    I love 'Gaslight'

    and I'd like to hear more of that story, missy! when you write more, send it my way

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