- Prism Mirror Lens
- Oct 9, 2012
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~*"The most intelligent and meaning-rich film he could think of was Shaun of the Dead, I don't think either brain is going to absorb anything you post."*~
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"What were you doing at the time of the disappearance?" I asked the woman curtly.
"We were watching a movie," she said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
"Which film?"
"Which film? It was, um, The Fly."
"Which one?" I asked, leaning into the dust-specked curtain of light below my lamp.
"Excuse me?"
"The original or the remake?"
She was quiet for a moment. "The remake, I guess. The freaky one from the 70s or 80s. I don't know. Anyway, the doorbell rang. It was the middle of the night. Todd went to see who it was, and he never came back to the sofa. So I put on my robe and went to look for him. The front door was open, but there was no one around. Just some tail lights out on the street, leaving."
I tapped my finger thoughtfully against my chin.
"The thing is," she continued, "when I went upstairs, some of his clothes were gone. His suitcase, too. And his wallet. The police think that he might have left with someone, that it might have been planned all along. They say there's nothing they can do. I don't know where else to turn."
She looked at me pleadingly.
"The Fly was released in 1986," I said.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PF6NYGl_qgY&t=3220s
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