show

we had tickets for the 8:45 show that night, but a tiny candle on our table for two lit a new path inside that cold war city. or maybe it was the zeitgeist pulsating inside that cozy grainy bar by the river. or the drinks that flowed into our stomachs and released the matters of our hearts. we lost twenty-three euros as no-shows, gifting empty seats for spilled popcorn and open views, but our evening became a blockbuster, a memory, a beautiful dance with destiny that grossed millions of possibilities with every blink, and there were scenes inside that bar when i felt we were everything and everywhere, two strangers arranged by the algorithms of chance, going all in—all at once. a few months later i bought a single ticket to the same movie at a different theater across town, and i remember walking into theater six with a stomach turning over the story we cut short, walking through the open meadows patiently waiting for our feet. she was gone and i was here, staying the course, opening my eyes to another midnight show

(THE DIARY OF EDDY MOOD)
—jk montane