Buff
She sat in the chilly darkness, the strange twinges of disappointment ruffling in her stomach. The film had ended and the credits were rolling, scrolling up and off the screen. Soon it would be completely gone and she would have to go. For a moment, a split second of indecision, she thought about the forbidden. Of staying and watching it again. The tugging yearn for the days of cinema gone by replaced the impulse. Double features, nickelodeons and silent films. She longed to be the damsel, rescued by Scott or Valentino. Ilsa, she thought, you shouldn’t have let Rick go. She wondered as a shiver raced down her arm what awaited her beyond the marquees, lights, and the ornate golden doors of the Brunson Cinema. Would the hero wait there or would it be the villain? Fantasy, reality, here in the cool shadows of the theater, it all blended. She picked her way to the aisle. Littered with stale popcorn, it led her from the rows of stadium seats to the garish hallway. Tiny c...