The Third Man
The zither plays on and on for her long walk between coppiced trees in that low, lovely winter light. He waits for her long arrival, but she never shifts her gaze away from the straight line of the road, and like that she leaves.
He takes a long time to light a cigarette near the grave of her lover that he shot, a mercy killing in a sewer of one who murdered children — this his friend, Harry, of the best ironic smile, who thought he might throw him from a Ferris wheel onto all the dots way down there, quickening in the light.
When the screen goes black, Holly, a drunk with a silly name who came when called, already begins to blur, a foolish boy to the end.
Michael Clayton
His life is a mess when three horses materialize on a hill, stark figures on the crest looking at him. Who would not scramble up that ridge to reach out a supplicant’s hand and humbly ask for deliverance?
Tar
She chose this wilderness of a broken building. She thought to pursue one who might become a lover. Then, her gaze takes in the black dog who arrived unseen. Motionless, silent, its gaze on her — this moment, just before it begins to run down the narrow hallway of this ruin.
