A Night for a Motion Picture
sometimes we are the film that no camera records.
What makes me happy is the joy of friends sipping on Lambrusco as they sit on a couch on a Friday night, lost in conversation.
What makes me happy is the laughter that ebbs and flows, the smiles of stories heard and told.
What makes me happy is the unexpected hard caramel of a tart baked too long, and the unashamed confidence that follows the mistake that would have made others ashamed.
What makes me happy is the interruption of the film because popcorn spilled onto the couch and floor after someone - me - sat on the bowl.
What makes me happy is someone curled up into a ball, the other sitting cross-legged, the other asleep, the other tensed up, the other vibing.
What makes me happy are late arrivals because they reveal how people have their own lives to live.
What makes me happy is starting late because the conversation flowed in the same direction as the wine current.
What makes me happy are silly questions, grammar mistakes, questions incorrectly phrased, and humming “hmm” at moments when heads nod in unison.
What makes me happy is the unavailability of subtitles and that a cheap TV with “76” on the volume scale is still too low to hear.
What makes me happy is a silent piano and the lonely books resting on the fireplace mantel, keeping each other company as they watch the people watch a film.
What makes me happy is a stocked liquor cabinet that functions as an ornament to decorate the dark corners of forgetfulness.
What makes me happy is the soft, yellow light of table lamps that hides from dark corners.
What makes me happy is the tilting of a person’s head to check the time while another person yawns.
What makes me happy is the company.
Photo by Jeremy Yap on Unsplash.