Columbus

I’ve started going to movies by myself. My taste in movies doesn’t always align with my peers. Case and point, every solo movie I attend, I find myself hunkered down in my seat, surrounded by grey haired viewers.
Tonight, I park on the otherside of the market square, bypassing the friday night festivities as I walk. Hispanic music coming from some corner. The theater is expensive, small, and surprisingly crowded. I buy a strong beer and find a seat to the side. This is my favorite experience, surrounded by a respectful crowd, sipping cold beer, and watching a film that is simply a story. 
And when the first name appears as the credits roll, the room is filled with soft music, and we all just take a breath. No one claps, no one gets up, we all just sit for a minute to absorb. This is my favorite experience, when someone tells you an story about life, no explosions, no special effects, just acting, and writing, and in the end, your heart’s responds..
When I step out of the theater it is full dark, and thru the hispanic music I can still year the crickets chirping. The air is warm and I quickly walk thru the night stalls, smiling politely at the vendors who call me Pretty and try to sell me things. The alley ways are dark and I pick up my pace as I cross the square to my car, hopeful to avoid attention.
I see my car in the distance, not the strong beast of my last jeep, but still my chariot back to my life. Away from the music, and the dancing, and the few hours I allow myself reprieve from my own life. I head back home.

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