When life had become a neat mown lawn, date night was a suprise daisy growing tall amid the green.
They sat, engrossed, barely noticing the popcorn that failed to make it to their slack mouths. When the screen fell to black Sarah's body would become rigid and her hand flailed for Mike. Silences never lasted long at the movies, merely tools to heighten the drama, ploys of stylistic effect – depriving the senses of light and sound for just long enough to peak their fear. The next moment was maximum intensity: loud, bright, fast, shocking. Sarah was back in her seat, eyes open wide. Mike's hand had moved like clock work the whole time with most of his salty treat making it to his already growling stomach. He grinned. This wasn't one of those artsy, enigmatic films his girl dragged him to in fancy attire. This was action, thriller, horror and he couldn't be happier.
A delicate arm in an elbow-length glove reaches across a starlet's dressing table at the exact same tine Lily reaches for her popcorn. The auditorium is a hush and would be silent were it not for the steady consumption of the concession snacks. The only light is from the movie, an old black and white film of Lily's favourite genre - “film noir.” For a non-smoking pacifist she sure soaks up cynical characters and grim tale surprisingly well. I'm sure there's a part of her that wants to be just like the tough “dames,” perhaps without the chain smoking. So tonight I'm wearing nothing but a fedora and a serious face - a gangster and a dangerous woman with red nails, can't wait...