MODIGLIANI MOVIE INQUIRIES

It's almost summer.  There's heat tempered by languid breezes.  It's a combination that adds up to a smile.  When you notice a dark awning, something about the black fabric makes you slow.  When you step under its shadow, there's a noticeable difference in temperature.  A drop.  You aren't cold.  But.  What is this place?  On the door you see "Modigliani Movie Inquiries".  There is so much activity around you.  Other people.  Animals on leashes.  Traffic.  Birds.  Planes.  Insects.  Doors opening and closing.  This door is still.  The place itself seems hunched.  Waiting.  What's inside?  You open the door.  

     Please, have a seat.  

You wait.  While waiting, you look around.  There is one other chair, across from you, empty, a generic picture on the wall, above the chair, of the beach, and, next to you, a table covered in magazines and advertising pamphlets.  You glance at the advertisements.   Then notice a TV above the secretary.  

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Time passes.  Finally:  "Modigliani will see you now."  The secretary smiles and you don't know why exactly (it's because she thinks it's funny to say a private eye will see someone; she laughs every time)

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