DEALMAKER: You’re Jeff Goldblum
He stands in my kitchen, his muscular frame sillohuetted by the light of the open refridgerater. The days of making love has left me exhausted- I fight the urge to close my eyes by trying to recognize the tune he’s been singing. It’s a meandering melody, but it sounds familiar… as familiar as his breath on my cheek or the sound of his laugh buried in the pillows. He sits on the bed beside me, brushing my hair from my forehead. The song quiets until it becomes a whisper. And then, like that- he is gone. All that is left is a note:
“God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates Man. Man destroys God. Man creates Dinosaurs”
