Silver Screen, Silver Lining

Silver Screen, Silver Lining

He was beginning to catch on, suspecting that she has found out the inevitable (that was the alternative title, by the way). He had to swallow and stomach it. The light was too bright and he perspired. His lips were awry in a manner of boyhood, when he first heard about the Scythians and the borders of the other empires. Yes, he cheated on her, but at least his heart was in the right place. This was in his lines, worded differently. An assistant in casually perforated two-tone shoes, kneaded his shoulders earlier. "It's all played by the book, you see. The male of the species approaches the female. Nature and tact. Boils down to simple decorum. You make your statement and are free. She blinks, or glares, what have you, has a fit, or stalks right off, and understands. A woman forgives, when it's done and dusted. By then, you can bet your life it is. She won't lay it into you. No, sir, no more. Girls keep that sort of thing to themselves. It's called leverage. Then, you can safely go back to your inhibitions." She goes out the door without saying what she has to say. The air is soulless and full of carve-up. He can sense it too, but keeps silent. The studio wants her to be generous, but a little later. A contract has its obligations –after all, she has a big heart to fit all his misdemeanors. She recalls their first night together, years ago (last week, when they practiced that scene). She hesitates, "men have a knack for being able to tell the difference," he tells her, when they are really alone. "It's so much more tangled up, if you're a woman," he explains further. He presses her hand to reassure her. "Anyways, in the end, I embrace you, and just before the credits roll, even the projectionist will swear that you and I, we both, have those health halos, just like they had thirty odd years ago, when they were silent still and could only face one another. Now, isn't that a swell caper?"