Interlude — Low-Profile Cap

You have come to see a film you know almost nothing about. This is becoming a rare and appealing condition. You have not watched three trailers, learned what the ending means, or heard somebody explain that the second act lets itself down. You have a ticket and a very incomplete set of expectations.

Outside the cinema, you take off your cap to look at the poster again. The pink and brick were a small decision you enjoyed making before leaving. A plain shirt, the dark peak, enough color near your face to feel as though the afternoon had begun properly. You fold the ticket along a crease it did not need.

Inside, the room is dim, the seat is yours, and for a while nobody can ask you what happens next. You particularly like this arrangement because you don't know. A door opens on the screen. Somebody says something unhelpful. You become interested.

Later, in daylight, you have quite a lot to think about. The cap goes back on. You could go directly home, but there is a little stretch of the film you want to walk around in first. At the corner you stop to check the poster on your phone. The title still seems right. The small photograph below it, however, has become considerably stranger.

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