>She has always hated noir. Pretentious and self-congratulating, it leaves her cold as a Chicago winter, empty as the spaces life has left in her heart. The outside world provides more than enough darkness and paranoia for her taste. She does not need it disguised as entertainment.
She watches now only out of apathy, unwilling to expend the energy it would take to argue her date’s choice. He is engrossed, enthralled, and she flinches as he reaches out in the darkness, his fingers wrapping icicles around her hand.
On the screen, the hero abandons the girl, and she shivers, remembering.
shaeconnorwrites 