A Little Bit Of Flash

It Starts With a Typo

It's like a found sound song, or found poetry, but it's all in images. Snapshots. And I do my best to keep up because I get lost in irrelevant details, trying to milk it for more than I should. Hm. Maybe the typo is the title, after all. "I skipped the hello", was what I received, to which I replied "I hate it when I go straight to good bye." A correction and apology followed, but I smiled and wrote back, "It made for an interesting love story in my mind." It got no further than the string of texts I sent. But it was a fun little ride, though more skeletal than usual for me.

I Skipped the Hello

Black and white set in the fifties. Almost film noir, but not. He's wearing a hat and she has Marilyn Monroe hair.

She is smart and sassy like only Hollywood women were. She's a nineties girl stuck in the fifties...woman really because we eventually claimed that title.

He keeps a Clark Gable smirk ready just for her. He was the suave bad boy with dark hair and a pencil mustache. He didn't quite swagger, but there was dance in his step.

She had dropped her coat on the back of a chair as she walked by. Towards what, I will never know, but she stopped. Turned and looked at him.

He watched her pass as he swirled his scotch, leaned on an elbow on the bar. Their bar in their impossible house full of impossible things.

She smiled when she asked about his day, her ruby lips parting for perfect teeth.

He lifted a brow and leaned his head. "I skipped the hello and was too late for sushi."

She gave him a knowing look. "I hate it when I go straight to good bye."

They laughed. He poured a drink into an impossible crystal glass and handed it to her. They sat on an impossible sofa. Stared at an impossible fire. Dreamed impossible dreams that they would later write down with fountain pens and perfect script.

Fin