Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Nobody Pays Any Attention to Me

Last night while waiting to go to sleep I ran a scene through my head that I'm working on.

They stood an the pier staring out into the ocean. She leaned against the railing and wondered about the man at her side. She was more than a little agrieved that he had insisted on accompanying her tonight and tried to ignore him without being rude.

"The breeze off the ocean is chilly tonight," he said.

"I told you to bring a jacket," she retorted. "If you're cold, go back."

"I'm not cold," he sighed, then added shyly, "I just thought you might need me to keep you warm."

She blinked hard. Was he hitting on her? Did she want him to hit on her?
She was too old to play games like this.

"You're right. The breeze is chilly tonight and your arms around me would feel good."

As I drifted off to sleep, his arms were indeed around her and they were locked in an empassionate kiss. "Really!" I thought, "That wasn't supposed to happen."

Later in the night, I woke briefly and saw the scene again. They were still kissing. In my dream, I whispered, "Excuse me," and tiptoed away, but you know I was thinking, "For Pete's sake, get a room."

I hate it when my characters refuse to take direction and start re-writing the script. Especially when they have more fun then me.

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