Every Monday, I watched an elderly man buy two tickets but always sit alone. Curiosity drove me to uncover his secret, so I bought a seat next to him. When he started sharing his story, I had no idea that our lives were about to intertwine in ways I could never have imagined.
The old city cinema wasn’t just a job for me. It was a place where the hum of the projector could momentarily erase the worries of the world. The scent of buttered popcorn lingered in the air, and the faded vintage posters whispered stories of a golden age I had only ever imagined.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Every Monday morning, Edward appeared, his arrival as steady as the sunrise. He wasn’t like the regulars who rushed in, fumbling for coins or their tickets.
Edward carried himself with quiet dignity, his tall, lean frame draped in a neatly buttoned gray coat. His silver hair, combed back with precision, caught the light as he approached the counter. He always asked for the same thing.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
And yet, he always came alone.
His fingers, cold from the December chill, brushed mine as I handed him the tickets. I managed a polite smile, though my mind raced with unspoken questions.
Why two tickets? Who are they for?
“Two tickets again?” Sarah teased from behind me, smirking as she rang up another customer. “Maybe it’s for some lost love. Like an old-fashioned romance, you know?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Or maybe a ghost,” another coworker, Steve, chimed in, snickering. “He’s probably married to one.”
I didn’t laugh. There was something about Edward that made their jokes feel wrong.
I thought about asking him, even rehearsing a few lines in my head, but every time the moment came, my courage vanished. After all, it wasn’t my place.