July 8, 2010, 6:23 pm
Filed under: SARAH | Tags: , ,

I am alone waiting on the Manhattan-bound platform when a man appears across the tracks on the Brooklyn-bound platform. He’s outfitted with a thick shroud of fog I’m certain he’s swiped from the last scene of Casablanca. On cue, Hollywood descends like the helicopter that’s gonna rescue us from the Nazis.


(My love SWELLING with the orchestra, CALLING to him across the thirty-foot and surely-not-insuperable chasm)

Marry me!


(Eyes ablaze, for we are but a moment past that scene on the sidewalk in which our conflicting destinies enforced what we had thought was our final tearful goodbye and we kissed passionately buried in the streetlamp’s haunting yellow hue

O, darling! Could it possibly be true?


(Hopelessly myself)

Of course not!

I CACKLE. MAN WEEPS, then evaporates.


It occurs to me that my life will never be a Hollywood classic unless someone fires the screenwriter.


Leave a Comment so far
Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: