An isolated house in the middle of nowhere. A boy and a mother occupy it. A man visits them to ask the boy history questions. If the boy gets it wrong, the mother gets punched in the face by the man. The man fucks the mother, the boy builds a snowman before sneaking back into the house to hear his mother threatening to tell this man’s wife and kids that the boy is his. The man flees. The boy cries after him. The mother and boy follow in their Volvo. A long driving sequence. The mother gives up somewhere during this long driving sequence. She lets go of the wheel, the car cruises onto a lake. The boy pulls the hand break. The car stops, the ice breaks. The boy gets out, the mother stays in the car. The boy watches close by while the car vanishes and the mother drowns. I wish the boy would have drowned too. Cause then he wouldn’t have grown up to become the Snowman killer and I wouldn’t have had to sit through that awful movie following that actually interesting opening scene.
Somebody spoke the words X-Men is my favorite superhero franchise and I choked a laugh because it was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Not funny ha-ha, but funny sad, because clearly, they are missing out.
This week, for some odd reason, felt rougher than it should have felt. I only had four days where I had to go to work, but for some reason these days managed to train me empty. But I won’t let it phase me, and I’m excited to have three days off to catch up with my posts, and possibly read a book or two.
METTEL RAY 