Lost magic of the Hollywood Hills in this late-afternoon hour, as the road grows narrow and quiet and twisty between patches of warm SoCal sunlight””
It”™s the marmalade sneaking into the wonderland””
Double-checking the address on the curb, you find yourself facing The House.
He was voted one of the greatest directors of all time by film media”¦
It”™s no big deal. I”™ve sent characters into worse with certain foes than putting myself here with a stranger-friend”¦ And I”™m a bold girl. I”™m a bold girl”¦ This story needs him”¦
Your index finger extends, reaches toward the buzzer, you run over scripts in your mind””You”™ve brought cinnamon rolls to the meeting””Everything done in goodwill, because you care””
So why are you so scared?
If you”™re so bold, then why are you so scared?
And all the time, that white buzzer, the deserted street, the hitch in the pendulum”¦
There is no time.
But only if you press the buzzer”¦
Comments (10) | Permanent Link | RSS