Two nights later, Flora and I sat in the living room, watching the original version of Lee’s movie. There was something exciting about watching horror movies at night on television.
Normally, I wouldn’t have bothered with a film I owned on Blu-ray, but during commercial breaks, the channel was showing a live feed of the red-carpet event for the premiere of the film’s remake. I’d even set it to DVR for Vic, though I had no idea when he’d have time to see it, and had popped a bag of popcorn that I’d split between Flora and myself.
The new cast was so different, too young—not that Lee had been old—too pretty—not that Lee hadn’t been handsome—just too WB teen drama.
“I remember seeing this with a girlfriend at a little theater on Indianola,” Flora told me, rocking in her chair, eyes closed.
