One of my favourite films, right up there slugging it out with The Big Lebowski for top spot in a bout too close to call, is The Third Man.
I often wondered what happened to Holly, Calloway and Anna after the film’s wistful closing scene of Anna’s long, determined walk past a smitten Holly into an unknown, uncertain future. I had my own thoughts, which weren’t narratively conventional, although they started that way in a novel I began writing, Cowboy Heart.
Blithely I worked away on it before deciding to check whether copyright would allow this conception to proceed to term.
‘I have consulted the literary executor and I am sorry to tell you that I am instructed to say he would never in any circumstances permit the work you propose’.
I must have really sold that one. Chagrin aside, I feel compelled to give at least a part of it an airing. That way, perhaps I’ll be able to move on more stoically. So here it is for week 10 - Out West - the start of the unfinished, a flavour of a feast that remains raw.
Back in the real world, it has been a busy week. I have passed my three-day course for ‘First Aid at Work’ and endured the horrible injury, burns, breaks and dislocation slides with only brief nods to nausea and the prospect of providing hands-on practice for my fellow delegates. So if someone is injured at work and I can avoid keeling over myself, I’m the man.
Back in the real world, it has been a busy week. I have passed my three-day course for ‘First Aid at Work’ and endured the horrible injury, burns, breaks and dislocation slides with only brief nods to nausea and the prospect of providing hands-on practice for my fellow delegates. So if someone is injured at work and I can avoid keeling over myself, I’m the man.
pip-pip
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