Exit lines

I wish I could film what I just wrote. I wish I could show it to people on a screen as large as my house, and hear the sounds made as the actions resolve. I want to feel it, deep in my bones as each movement demands attention, distracting people from their sodas, candy and popcorn for a moment.

It’s a show stopper, and I have to advance the plot 6 months afterward to give folks enough time to enjoy it.

Summer has ended. Spring begins tomorrow.