close to the end now. Unfortunately, the next few scenes promise to be extraordinarily difficult to stage-manage. Yeesh. At this rate, it'll probably be Thursday before I'm done, unless tomorrow turns out much more productive than I'm guessing.
No sample today, since everything in today's writing would be too spoilerific.
No, I lie. There is one
bit I can share, but it doesn't really give a feel for what the rest of the chapters were like. But it does show a bit more how Alice's pop-culture soaked mind works.
This looked like the scene where the two characters who have been growing closer to each other, all along, finally bond, trapped together in a confined space for a long amount of time. This looked like that scene, but it wasn’t. Alice and Stillman were in the closet, in the dark, for long hours, but they weren’t Audrey Hepburn and Peter O’Toole in a closet in How to Steal a Million, or Loni Anderson and Frank Bonner in an elevator on WKRP in Cincinnati, or John Ritter and Don Knotts in a meat locker on Three’s Company. They were a teenage runaway epileptic and a self-professed former spy who lived in a hole in the ground.
Alice realized that they might just have discovered all of the common ground they were going to find. There might not be any more possible avenues for connection. The gulfs that separated them—in age, in experience, in temperament—might be insurmountable, after all. There was no way of telling.