Watching A Dark Screen I wince at the screen, and want, even crave to change the channel. But I’m like a junkie to a fix, almost like an aging model to a mirror. Not even beer cans in the refrigerator could get me off this couch. Even my bladder protests, but I keep watching. All I do is dig my nails deeper into the pillow, tearing the stuffing out, shrinking it to a shriveled sack. But this movie never made it to the theaters. It tells no tales of duels with swords or star-war light sabers— no conquering Caesar, no eloquent Mark Antony, no suave Hugh Grant scoring with svelte Julia Roberts. Before me unravels a tale with neither climax nor resolution. Finally, I turn on the set and behold the glowing pixel fantasy that chases away the specter that haunted the unlit screen— my reflection.