I love when a film is tragic and moves everyone in the theater to tears, and then ends abruptly, leaving nothing but the slow scrolling white text of the credits and the sounds of sniffling, soft comforting whispers, and the rustling of jackets.
People will linger a few moments longer than necessary, because the theater is heavy with emotions and leaving the safe enveloping cocoon where everyone has also felt this tragedy spread through their bodies means having to return to the so-called real world.
This world also has sadness, but so often it is personal rather than communal. The shared understanding of tragedy is what draws us to the theater time and time again.
We sniffle and dry our tears together as the credits roll because we have been captivated by the characters, but we also cry in camaraderie.
Welcome to Microvember, my take on NaBloPoMo. Each day this month I’ll be posting microfiction, short vignettes, or poetry, accompanied by photography. See more Microvember posts here.
This piece is a repost of Roll the Credits from May 3, 2014.