The Movie
Charles Simic
For years, when I couldn’t fall asleep, I’d lie in the dark making up my own movie. It had little plot. The camera followed a lone, young man who roamed the city trying to find a girl he had met briefly at some party and where he overheard her mention the midtown neighborhood where she worked. He haunted that area day and night. Sometimes he thought he glimpsed her in the rush-hour crowd. The rest of the time he cooled his heels; one minute full of hope, the rest of the time despairing.
Something like that actually happened to me. I did and go search for someone in the unlikely hope that I will run into her. First, I stood on one particular corner and waited every day, but eventually I considered alternative possible routes; I enlarged the area of my search. It was like playing the game of hide-and-seek in a dream. There was no place in the city where I did not expect to meet her. At times my hunch was so overpowering, I was astonished I did not see her turn the next corner. Even after forty years, I have not entirely given up. Every once in a while, walking the streets of New York, I remember her and look around. The stores are closing. It’s kind of chilly, but I linger for a while.
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