“I have a theory that movies operate on the level of dreams, where you dream yourself.”
Today is a repeat of yesterday. It is cold, bitterly cold. The day is pretty with a bright sun and a deep blue sky. The icicles hanging off the front of my house are melting. When I opened the door to get the papers, an icicle broke. I was reminded of a murder mystery I read where the weapon was an icicle which melted, and poof, the evidence was gone. I got the papers and stopped to check out the house. One of the icicles is long and very thick. It could be the weapon.
A snow storm is coming our way. Alexa says a 77.7 % chance on Tuesday. She also predicted close to 5 inches of the beastly white stuff, but that amount deserves only a wave of the hand dismissal. Is that the best you can do, Mother Nature?
I love the sound of crusty snow breaking as you walk across it, especially at night when the moon and the stars are shining. There are no sounds except the ones my feet make. My footsteps echo. Few people venture out on a freezing winter’s night. I always feel like I’m the only one awake.
If I were a movie, I’d be a Hallmark Movie. I’m a sucker for happy endings, and every Hallmark movie has one. In December, I was on a sugar overload. I got to eat cookies and watch at least one Hallmark Christmas movie a day.
My second choice, if I were a movie, would be a science fiction movie. I’d throw in some sort of disease, maybe an alien or two, a post-apocalyptic world where the cities are in ruins and heroes of every ilk who wear the same clothes throughout the entire movie. The aliens would lose. They usually do, even in my movie.