Inglourious Basterds

Bursting out of the theater --- into the warm womb of summer air outside. Safe. Whew. Or...? Can't get a ride home, will have to bike. The darkness, ragged breath, shallow in my throat, I'm gasping for air. University Avenue --- traffic courses by to my left. A noise, pat- pat- Colonel Landa of the S.S.? No, a jogger. Deeper breath, stay calm. Can passers-by see the terror in my face, my mouth messily gaping? By the stadium, I gulp breaths of light, of air ---

Running across the field, family killed by the S.S. Laughing in the smoke of the theater.

Intestines still twisted around my gut, trying to relax. The intercampus transitway stretches out in front of me, the hot, summer air turning to ice, the empty road at once a snow covered path in an alpine forest, the truck crossing the roadway a vehicle of war, carrying prisoners. A light up ahead, now nothing. Now another, blinking towards me --- friend or foe? A sloppily dressed college student, riding hands free, talking on his cellphone. Movements in the grass alongside the road are bunnies, enemies in the race for survival.

Crossing the main road, nearly home, but foiled by road construction --- will have to go the long way, unless I cross the tracks. Up the rocky path, through the bushes --- But a vast and many-membered monster stands in my way, obstinate, cold, silent. Between the train cars, bullets fly. I dodge them and follow the vacant roadway up and around. Tarantino clenching my stomach, quickening my heart, squeezing my eyes shut so tight. Wait at the light and cross on red when no one comes. The smell of manure at the fairgrounds is like home and I can breathe a bit more now. Smooth pavement and a sense of college campus security. Now clean laundry smell from Married Student Housing hits me and I'm nearly there, and I've nearly shaken Landa. The blood and scalping still jump out as I'm rolling into the alley, easing off my bike, and....the...terrible...magic...is...gone.

It was just a movie.