Object of My Obsession

The Scene : A narrow, cobblestoned street in St Germain-des-Prés, Paris

ANNA walks down the street, hoisting her large bag over one shoulder and brushing unruly hair out of her eyes as the sun shines directly on her face. A tall man with blonde hair wearing a dark, prim trenchcoat buttoned up to his chin approaches from the other direction. ANNA and the man walk toward each other as the sidewalk narrows and the sun moves out of her eyes.

Slightly blinded from the sudden darkness, ANNA’s eyes focus on the tall man’s face. Something seems familiar to her. She thinks,

Wait a second ! That… looks…like… HOLY FUCK!!

The man, now identified as WES ANDERSON, celebrated writer/director and, consequently, ANNA’s favorite filmmaker, makes eye contact. ANNA’s mouth drops open and she makes a very quiet sound as her breath stops. WES ANDERSON looks at the ground, embarassed, as ANNA stares and unconsiously slows down. WES ANDERSON raises his eyes again, looks at ANNA as he passes, and continues on, his hands shoved deep into the trenchcoat pockets.

ANNA stops and stares after him, her mouth opening into a startled laugh. She fumbles for her cell phone, and dials JESSICA.

ANNA: (yelling) "JESS!! HOLY SHIT!! I JUST SAW WES ANDERSON!!"

The girls shriek together as ANNA laughs hysterically on the small street in Paris.

FIN.

ETA: in any sort of just world, this scene would have happened in slow motion as some great 60s rock, like the Stones or the Who, played angrily in the background... le sigh