The ticket

Rummaging through the pockets of my jacket (a jacket I hadn’t put on in months, a summer jacket, which I pulled out when it got so hot last week), I fell, in the middle out of a bundle of receipts, bank receipts and shopping lists (yes, I know, I should empty my pockets more often), I came across, I said, on a weird little piece of cardboard that it took me a long time to look to understand what it was: a movie ticket! Yes, no mistake: it was indeed a movie ticket. I was then seized with a great melancholy.

How long had it been since I saw a movie ticket? A ticket that we bought at the cash desk of a cinema, that we presented at the entrance of the cinema room (let’s say room 5), which allowed you to sit on a cinema chair, a red chair, to watch that thing even stranger than a movie ticket: a movie. My God, a movie! In a movie theater! With lots of people all around, sitting in red armchairs. And before the movie, on this other weird thing called a screen: commercials and trailers. Looking at that movie ticket, I almost brought tears to my eyes. I felt like Barbara: say, when are you coming back? Say, at least do you know? As forbidden, I asked myself this other question: are we going to end up forgetting what cinema was? Help !


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