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I was six when my big sister lured me down to the basement. “Come watch this movie,” she said. “It starts in a few minutes.”
“What’s it called?” I asked.
“Alien.”
“That sounds scary.”
“It’s not. It has space ships. Like Star Wars.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
(Opening credits roll. A black void set to a mournful score.)
“I don’t think I like this movie.”
“Keep watching.”