Peeking at the script:
I guess I must have been in love.
Or thought I was. I was only
twenty-one, working on my first big
scoop: this perfectly ordinary
middle-age couple -- gun runners.
One night, I told him about it and
when I woke up the next morning he
was gone. So was my story. He won
an award for it. Didn't even thank
me for my... input.
I guess it could have been anywhere, but the fact that he was 'gone'...I doubt he'd leave his own apartment...
And then there's this:
I have a couple of friends who live in apartments and they have changed apartments several times (because of needing more or less bedrooms or simply because a better/newer/nicer apartment came open and they wanted to switch).
I moved three times this year. I could be weird, but it took me a while to find some place where I could really settle AND not write such a heartstopping check every month for rent. But I'm still looking for that extra bedroom.
JD
