Author's Note: The place is real. The movie is real. The situation is fictional. Enjoy. CV



It doesn't look like much at first glance. But then, enchanted things never do.

Like the piece of chalk in the little girl's hand as she opens the door to another, stranger and more wonderful, world on the screen.

I lean over the balcony and watch the audience as they watch the images flash before them. To my right, a young woman cringes into the man next to her, and he takes the opportunity to pull her closer. Directly in front of me, an older gentleman sits alone, sitting back in his seat, allowing the images to wash over him, an enraptured expression on his face.

They have come to a place that has stepped out of the progression of time, despite what the movement of the illuminated hands on the clock beside the screen would tell them if they broke their attention long enough to look. It is an attempt to enter a parallel universe – one where nine dollars buys you an evening of modern cinematic science in an old-fashioned setting, where suspending disbelief seems as novel and magical as if CGI had never been invented.

From where I sit, I can see a teenaged usher creep in through the main doors, his shift over. A smell of theatre popcorn comes in with him, adding to the sensory symphony that the audience is partaking in. He moves quietly to a seat near me, and as time passes, I can tell he's seen the film before – and still sits in awe of every minute.

Credits roll, and the audience shake themselves back to reality, striking up conversation or just sitting silently and enjoying the moment for the little time that remains. As the lights come up, I vacate the seat that Krista, who loves (loved?) Jay, sat in sometime before me, and as I turn, I catch a glimpse of a man in the very back row of the room. Part wizard, part professor, all white hair, beard, and straight posture, he watches as his customers leave, knowing that his illusion has succeeded again, and savouring every second.

I join the trickle of people out towards the street, and as we push through the glass doors to the rest of the world, a fine drizzly mist envelopes us, softening the night and allowing the fantasy to linger for a little while longer.