walking into a denny’s after not having been in one for almost 10 years and having just written a story set in one…felt like walking into my own imaginary place. moving around externally in a place i created internally. while we were at the table, furious drops of water splashed the window.
“that’s some heavy rain,” my cousin said.
the diner in my mind had snow outside, but the rain felt very quentin-tarantino-esque. 3 in the morning and we’re discussing parellel universes and how to get along with the in-law’s. it all felt too bright around the edges, too dull around the middle, but exactly as it should be–real.
“no wait…it’s just the sprinklers,” he said. “but it really does look like rain.”
for a few minutes we were out of time, out of place. we were in a diner in the middle of the night in a place where rain pelted sidewalks and windows, existing in a self-contained universe unto itself. it felt like a movie set. i looked around for suspicious looking characters. if this were a true tarantino set, then it’s always wise to expect surprises.