She's driving and thinking about the one she loves in the city, and the man she's with in the country. Her leather gloves on, grasping loosely around the steering wheel, tremble a tiny amount. She's flustered and excited, she's decided, and now she's going through with it.
The few seconds of the scene taking place in the car tell the viewer she's going to do it. Their hearts race alongside hers. It doesn't matter if the man at home is a drunk, a jerk, a guy her parents wanted her to marry, a sweet lover, a good man, or just not as good as the other. None of this matters to them for they love the one in the city, the camera is on him most of the time anyway.
She walks into the door and doesn't undo her scarf, snowflakes flurry in with her, she looks him in the eye as he shoots her an inquisitive look. She tells him it's over, she's sorry, she loves him but she loves the man in the city more. She leaves before he can say anything. The camera looks down on the shut door and the few snowflakes still coming in.
The next scene she's in his arms, and she is as happy as can be. They are meant to be. The camera and the story never show the man though. His heart break, his surprise, his ache, his feelings...he doesn't matter to us, maybe he wasn't as handsome.
Quote of the Day
~"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show."~
--Andrew Wyeth
Do you like to hurt? I do, I do.
Eighty-seven
- December 10, 2009
- Quit_Lollygagging
- 1 Comment
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