My favorite writer died today. While I know that he personally didn't believe in an afterlife, I can't help but picturing him (free of his physical limitations) sitting at a theatre, sipping root beer, holding a pack of Chuckles in some version of heaven. He's watching Citizen Kane and sneaking bites of a Stake 'n Shake burger he smuggled in under his coat. (Orsen Welles sits down and asks for a bite.) This image makes me smile.
My thoughts and prayers are with his wife and loved ones.
I thought the same thing. He and Gene are arguing over a movie; Gene's making fat jokes and Ebert's coming right back at him with his own brand of wit. Whatever exists beyond the present, I'm sure they're both together again at last.
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