I feel as though I'm slogging along behind myself, shadowing myself.
Depending on the light, I'm either a few inches to the right or left, or several leagues behind. I need a super-hero infusion to rise above the debris cluttering my vision. I think I've got a touch of 'fight or flight' still active at the sub-atomic level.
(illuminated sign on a telephone booth)
It's Friday night and I've eaten a vegetable melange with six Thai dumplings. My neighbor devoted some more time to dropping numbers into my new phone address listing, with a promise of more entries tomorrow. More kindness.
"Local Hero" is playing on my tiny TV. I love the film, love going to Scotland, love the Burt Lancaster performance (one of his last), and that of the exuberant Russian fisherman, the whole cast really, love the writing, love, love the moment when they see the Northern lights, and that last poignant scene where, back in the big City, the protagonist misses being there.
(television screen with my reflection on the right,
the Northern lights scene on the left)
A true gem this movie.