324. A Perfect Place - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. MELROSE AND CURSEN - NIGHT


• ANDI and EMILY walk past the lit windows of shops, bundled up against the cool night air.


• EMILY
• I'm just not a fan of the idea that art isn't beautiful. Art, I mean, to me, art is inherently something that is well-crafted.


• ANDI
• Isn't that a really shallow, mm that's harsh - narrow, isn't it a narrow definition of art. And who says that just because somethings ugly it's not well crafted?


• EMILY
• I dunno, all the dada, neo-dada, abstract, expressionist stuff...it's just - ridiculously hard to swallow. And half the stuff looks like people aren't really even trying.


• ANDI
• Maybe the trying is in the conceptualizing - maybe the final creation of it doesn't require painstaking effort - but was the thought that resulted in that creation painstaking.


• Strains of live Christmas music from behind a closed door stop them.


• A guitarist transitions from a gentle reggae-styled "Joy to the World" to a gentle, Spanish-styled "Silver Bells" while a violin accompanies it gently.


• Andi closes her eyes, listening.


• EMILY
• Can't they just wait? Its' not even Thanksgiving yet. Everyone's so eager to dive into the holiday madness.


• ANDI
• Shhh.


• Emily turns in surprise to see her friend standing by the door, eyes closed, and tears streaming down her face.


• EMILY
• Whoa. And you're the one who likes ugly art and doesn't do holidays.


• ANDI
• Not even going to...I may not "do" Christmas, but these songs take me someplace. I close my eyes and everything's perfect, and there are cobblestones, and stone, and smiling musicians.


• She chokes a bit


• EMILY
• I'm sorry it makes you so sad.


• ANDI
• It's not sad, it's not happy either. I think there are a thousand emotions we will never name. This is one.


• EMILY
• Let's go...it's getting colder.


• Andi almost whispers.


• ANDI
• Just a little more, please.


• She leans closer to the door, absorbing the music for a while.


• She is lost.


• Emily shivers and her teeth chatter a bit, snapping Andi out of her reverie.


• ANDI
• Sorry, let's go.


• She wipes the tears off her tricks, leaving tiny, silver trails and begins walking again.


• The two head away on the sidewalk to the strains of "What Child is This?"


• FADE TO BLACK.