A friend recently introduced me to the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and I've been completely hooked ever since. If you haven't seen it: go and do so right now. Written and directed by Steven Spielberg at the very start of his career (1977), it's an absolutely magnificent way to spend two hours.
… of the First Kind:
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It all started with a bump.
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Well, more than a bump, really. It was closer to a BANG! CRASH! OW!
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And then silence.
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Because she had knocked him unconscious and he would never truly regain he senses.
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… of the Second Kind:
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They sat there on the roof, barely a hair's width apart and both trying very not to think about what they were about to do.
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Their mouths brushed against each other—not really a kiss yet, but as close as they had ever gotten—and he held his breath, pulled in by her gravitational field and scared to death that this wouldn't end like it should. Scared that maybe this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
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It wasn't.
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… of the Third Kind:
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All he could see was her hands, clasped tightly in his own, against the backdrop of white lace that was her dress.
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"Do you…?"
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"I do."
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And as he watched his ring slid over her finger, and felt hers glide onto his, he knew this was the day he had lived for.
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This was the day he had waited for.
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This was the day she became his.
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A day to end all days.
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And when he voiced this opinion to his wife(!), she just smiled.
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"If you think this is amazing, wait 'til tonight."
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(End.)
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