Saturday, February 25, 2006

(Theme from) Spartacus

This night was just the culmination of the skid that'd started a few weeks back. You'd been the envied pair for a month or so, eons in those days when going out with anyone over a week was tantamount to a swan's commitment. The comfort of the familiar had even started settling in. Perhaps, this was to be it.

Then, the gentle tearing of the fabric began. Going out dancing became painful. You stepped on her toes. She'd lead on occassion and you then refused to follow. Completing each other's sentences became an annoyance, a hemming in of each other's unpredictability.
The sighing came frequently; the touching of fingertips less so. The wisp of hair that always hung so innocently on the nape of her neck became a distraction. Your sly smile at her verbal observations drove her into silence.

So, this night came down upon the two of you. A favorite restaurant's meal simply resulted in mutual complaining. The bill was paid, the tip short-pocketed, and you repaired back to her apartment. Hands in pocket, both of you walked to the low drumming of her high heels on the pavement. Once inside, coats were left on, a glass of wine was firmly grasped, an ever so slow tear trickled down your cheek. On the record player, Joe Venuti was crying on his violin. (Theme from) Spartacus was playing. You put down your glasses, cupped each other closely, and moved about the small floor. Three minutes twenty-nine seconds passed. The song finished, you kissed, gave a slight nod, and left, gently clicking the door goodbye.

(This is #2 of Ten Heartbreakers as memed by Whisky Prajer)

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With this story and this song, I take back my "greenhorn" raspberry.


You should really write screen plays....

I went to Amazon, clicked on the song and jumped back to your post to read the ending. Now, that song will forever seem bittersweet to me.
This recognizable scenario is bittersweet enough to apply to the entire list, methinks. Excellent bit of thematic rendering, DV.
a sweet sad strawberry of a song especially when it's done by Bill evans (no one does it better), tho Yusef Lateef's version is soft, reluctant, lovely. I think I've heard this song almost my whole life, first when I was maybe 12. I don't feel this bittersweet much in middle age, but it's there tucked in a pocket.
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