The theater is dark. We're all sat left of the aisle, as though conforming to some unknown standard.
She's off to the right.
I'm instantly intrigued. Drawn to this solitary creature. A kindred spirit. We watch the movie in requisite silence. The others around me fade away.
I steal glances at her in the imperfect shadows. Listening for signs of life from her realm, the Right.
She has no idea I exist.
The film ends. We walk out strangers. I am close only to the versions of her I've fabricated in my mind. A small batch of handcrafted fantasies.
She's a totem of the latest in a long line of solitary experiences.
A story I tell myself, later, in the contained darkness where I spend my nights.