Wednesday, February 4, 2009

whatmarkism volume.18

Stop wallowing. Start living.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

A Movie Idea!

Film opens in a massage parlor. Candles throwing soft shadows on the sparse walls.

For years he had worked his skillful hands. Alone. For what he did not know.

A gust of wind blows the chimes hanging at the front door. And that's when he sees her standing. Her red silken dress revealing more than she knew, as the street light silhouetted her incredible body.

"Are we closed?" She asked.

Moments later she was undressing. She lay on the table. And his fingers dug deep rejuvenating furrows down her smooth back.

Moments later they were wrapped around her feet. Slithering up her calf muscles. Caressing her thighs.

And then, risking everything that he had left his hometown for, he looks at the lush white towel covering her ample curves and braced himself for what could be the biggest mistake of his professional life.

In what felt like a mere nanosecond, her hand was at his face. It was her left hand. Her fingers curved in delicately.

"Marry me"

He smiles. Fishing for something in his pocket.

She smiles.

Her eyes filled with need, she takes a step towards him, and the candles are magically snuffed out by a second gust of wind.

In the darkness, a soft sigh is heard. Followed by another. And another deeper, stronger one.

Like a soft ripple of water, the movie title appears:

"Rub ne bana di Jodi"

whatmarkism volume.17

He was on a journey of self-discovery.

When somewhere along the way he caught himself wishing.

That he wouldn't fully find himself.