Benches in the shape of film noir.

So, I made my own time where there was none.   I fixed popcorn.   Grabbed the last can of ginger ale from the fridge and parked myself in front of my computer.  I darkened the room.  And loaded, Mildred Pierce.  I guess I’ve had a small fascination with film Noir-esque images lately, so this fit perfectly.  The film is simple.  Well acted for its day or any other.  Full of historical post-war styles and language.  Dramatically lit.  Perfectly perfect for someone in need of a little fascination.  For me.  Today.  Just in time.

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a bench. please.

If you’ve ever been to the Smoky Mountains there is a long steep hill to get to this place where you can see four states and this breathtaking panoramic, right?  Did I mention the hill?  leg-burning, hold your breath when you pass people-kind.  And every once in a while they put a bench.  But you don’t stop because you won’t start again.  The metaphor should go like this:  The view is worth it… keep going… don’t stop.  But that’s stupid.  Truth is, I’d like a bench about now.  Just a bench!  and a few minutes.

now and again. again…

I am thrown by change and the very weight of it. Today, I was in the grocery after work. And I just wanted to sit down. Right there in the deodorant aisle. ( I have a 15 year old son.  I’m there a lot). I just wanted to sit there. And not talk. And have people walk around me. I don’t know what keeps us from just sitting down in the aisles. Of course I kept walking. Throwing things in my basket. But today, it felt good just to think about it. Wow. Hello, my name is Ellen. One small step away from visiting hours and meds on a tray.