Theodore cracks the spine of his laptop; across from him his friend Sam raises an eyebrow.
Theodore clears his throat and smooths his vintage writer’s scarf, convinced he’s on the verge of creating cinematic history.
It’s a typical afternoon at the Twilight Zone in Lark Lane.
‘I’m telling you, Sam, this is the one. I can feel it in my marrow. A mind-bending narrative that will redefine cinema and what it means to be human.’
Sam leans back, folding his arms and grinning. ‘Okay, Maestro. What’s the logline?’
With a dramatic flourish, Theodore launches into his vision, ‘Lina Calder, a disillusioned quantum physicist who accidentally glimpses her own death across parallel realities. While experimenting with a prototype multi-dimensional telescope, Lina sees an alternate version of herself smiling at her funeral. She chases versions of her past and future, unravelling family secrets buried in fractured timelines. Confronting a cosmic mirror of herself, Lina must choose between saving reality as she knows it or embracing a grander, unknowable existence. Lina returns to her original timeline – but everything has subtly shifted, hinting that her journey is far from over.’
Sam nods, sipping matcha latte. ‘Sounds… ambitious.’
Theodore smirks. ‘Not ambitious – epoch-defining.’ As Theodore dives back into exposition about his ‘three-hour, no-intermission’ cut,’ Sam glances out the window. He knows the more grandiose Theodore sounds, the more likely he is to forget half of it by tomorrow.
But, just to be safe, Sam says seriously, ‘Don’t forget me when you win the Palme d’Or.’
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 