Random Sequence

Spurs

As Jonas and Melody, two middle-aged professors of linguistics, were walking aimlessly about in the city center on a gray, empty Saturday, they came to an unsuspected esplanade. Across the plaza was a small art-house movie theater with a glowing marquee. In block letters, it said "Spurs and Saddles".

"What's 'Spurs and Saddles'"? Melody asked in a musing tone, as if she didn't really expect an answer.

"A film," said Jonas, in a flat voice.

"I know that!" Melody hissed. "I mean, I've never heard of it."

"It's an old silent, I think," Jonas replied. "From the 20s. Let's go see it!"

"Ahh, no!" said Melody. "I am not in the mood for manful atrociousness manifested in shoot-'em-ups, or achromatic rowdyism in the Old West. Even in silence."

"Apparently you are in the mood for improvident syntactics, however," Jonas sneered.

"Oh, please," said Melody. "Let's find an eatery instead. I'm ready for some light repast, some amusing crumpet, perhaps chased down by a glass of some pretentious vintage."

"I'm agreeable," Jonas said. "As long as we act out our little chow-down as if we were thespians masticating in a silent movie."

[not to be continued]