Tonight, I would like to be some incredibly interesting and complicated character in a noir film...or perhaps a little indie foreign picture. Someone with chiselled and compelling features, smoking at a little table in a tiny bar, someplace exotic and dangerous.
I would smoke, french-inhaling and letting the smoke curl from my lips into wisps over the table. If I could figure out a way to do so without looking ridiculous, I would blow smoke-rings.
I would drink something terribly potent and tasty and romantic. When the time came, I would slip my trenchcoat around my shoulders and step out onto the street, into the night and the fog, to keep my prearranged assignation--despite the danger and uncertainty.
I wonder who I need to talk to to arrange my very own, extremely cool soundtrack.
I'm allergic to the alder trees blooming their little hearts out, here. The antihistamines are obviously making me a bit strange.
2 comments:
so what's stopping you?
heh--mostly that I'll wake up tomorrow or the next day, yearning to be my boring old self again: puttering in the yard, playing with the horses, walking the dog, and so on.
It's always nice to get comments. Thanks for dropping by.
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