Friday, December 22, 2017

Week in Seven Words #375

Entering numbers into a form, carefully, on a laggard computer that decides at odd moments to step out for the computer equivalent of a coffee break.

Thick sheets of rain sweep past the movie theater's marquee. The lobby is stuffy and has a dusty, buttery smell.

They like improv but are also afraid of it, because it's too unpredictable. They hold back, undermining the scene, for fear of saying something unacceptably weird.

There's a lot of reassurance to be found in a shared pizza and companionable silence.

It's a roaring 20s theme party, where the gals show off their gams in shimmery knee-length dresses that shiver as they dance.

The interviewer acts like he's trying to corral a horse. He wants the rage of denial, the flare of indignation. Followed by inevitable submission.

Sometimes, making them laugh is as simple as holding a staring contest with the head of a unicorn.