Then the credits ascend to the top. “ROLL THE CREDITS”. BlackDrop and WhiteText. The WhiteText smothers my glassy eyes. I read nothing but simple prepositions. To. As. From. Suddenly, I am reminded of worth. I remember __________.
The WhiteText continues. Turn your head and look at me. I sense your focus and refuse to look back. Are you intuitive to my thoughts/strategy/manipulation? Notice my ambivalence toward you. I NEED this. Pretending not to notice you. Are you tricked? Or patient with my ridiculousness? What are you feeling? Maybe nothing but a shallow tingle.
Forgotten within ten minutes.
I think for you and I.
From where I came. Our past.
And forget why.
I have to sit as these credits roll.