Drabble Ten

Cinema Gazebo

Cary Grant looked bewildered and slightly terrified, as he often does. Perhaps he, too, was puzzled at his presence in Lafayette Square Park on that clear, chilly September night.

I gazed up the hill toward the gazebo and watched as Uncle Teddy came upstairs from digging his basement Panama Canal. If I listened very carefully I could hear the faint burbling of the creek beneath the bridge upon which I stood, taking in my private screening of Arsenic and Old Lace.

As Peter Lorre consoled his homicidal patient, I turned and continued my stroll through the park, smiling to myself.

(This story can only be called fiction because the movie was actually The Phantom of the Opera and I was not alone.)