Sentence The Seventyseventh
“Choices, choices,” grumbled the celebrated Scots auteur Kenny Cramond as he maundered along the Gullane foreshore, kicking stones into the foamy brine; the stringent budget cuts imposed on him by STV were wreaking havoc with his shooting schedule for 'Rob Roy' and he felt his artistic integrity being quickly eroded, helped by his tight-arsed producer, Mungo Macpherson, and knew that he needed to pluck some sort of rabbit out of the hat to kick-start the floundering project; not that he couldn't demonstrate artistic integrity on a shoestring – why, his 'Birdwatching' had won the Palm D'Or' at the Oban Film Festival and Georgie Corcoran and Felicity Dalwhinnie owed their Hollywood status to his 'Dancing with Kelpies'; “what to do, what to do”; his reputation for 'double-speak' was well founded and he cursed himself for the irritating habit and stared towards The Jolly Boatman, wondering if it was too early for a wake-up shot of Laphroaig, when he suddenly caught sight of a group of women of all ages and shapes, accompanied by an elderly priest, not nuns, surely, he reflected and suddenly, out of their midst emerged a simply stunning vision – a 
 
voluptuous woman highlighted in a blaze of sunshine like the Virgin in a painting by Giotto, seemingly stripping for an early morning dip, “out of many.” he murmured and he knew he only had to say it once and his future and the success of 'Rob Roy' were assured: “forget all the difficulties and hazards for – e pluribus unum – she's the one!”

Comments

Popular Posts