We hugged goodbye, and a hint of something hotter flowed between us -- not enough to make a difference, but more than I had expected. Progress. She stepped out of the car. Her hair bucked and crackled. I think she may have glanced back once, Orpheus-like, but maybe not. Then she was gone.
I didn't think I would include this scene in my article. It seemed too simple. But I'm reluctant to leave it out. If there's one thing Julie's movie reminded me, it's that life is lived, and then captured. If you don't capture it, someone else will. There's no other definition for art.