366. A Requiem For Those We Love - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. FORGE - NIGHT


• The forge glows orange, flames bouncing off of the large metal shapes that dominate it.


• In the center of forge is an iron table, to which IOLA is bound.


• She is blindfolded, her large, dark wings held in vises that stretch out on either side of the table.


• THE BLACKSMITH, muscle-bound creature with a short, white beard and blueish wings stands above her, grasping a white-hot collar in his tongs.


• TWO OTHERS stand by the table, watching; one dressed in an immaculate pin-striped suit, his shoes gleaming like mirrors, the other in a strange, almost ancient-seeming military jacket - his hands glow pure white.


• The Blacksmith lowers the collar towards her neck.


• The muscles of her wings tremble as she feels the heat descending.


• The Blacksmith stops.


• THE BLACKSMITH
• Are you sure? Are you sure the Morning Star wants this?


• PIN-STRIPED MAN
• Are you afraid?


• THE BLACKSMITH
• We've never...killed...one of our own before.


• PIN-STRIPED MAN
• No one has ever betrayed us before.


• THE BLACKSMITH
• But to cut her off from Father?


• PIN-STRIPED MAN
• Watch your tongue. I'm getting sick of this, blacksmith--shall I?


• The Blacksmith shakes his head.


• PIN-STRIPED MAN
• Cut her off. Then take her and chain her in plain sight - so she can watch the mud drinkers she seems to love so much.


• The letters etched into the collar seem to slither with ancient darkness.


• The Blacksmith's hands tremble as he lowers the burning collar onto Iola's neck.


• She screams as metal burns into flesh, her wings spasming.


• IOLA
• Daddy!


• EXT. SKYSCRAPER ROOF - NIGHT


• The hum of machinery is gentle over the sounds of traffic in the streets far below; people rushing to be home with their families or join parties at the center of town.


• Iola, her once-beautiful wings tattered, sits on the roof, shivering.


• Her ankle is chained to the lightning rod, which rises from the center of the roof.


• She is thin, sick, a ghost of who she was.


• Along the wall at the edge of the roof are pasted hundreds of pictures - people from around the world, and under each, a flame hovers.


• She closes her eyes, and begins chanting.


• IOLA
• Lacrimosa, Lacrimosa dies illa Qua resurget ex favilla Judicandus homo reus.


• The chanting becomes singing - the haunting strains of Mozart's requiem.


• There is something unearthly and utterly captivating, about her voice.


• It is as if an entire orchestra is forming in the notes she breathes.


• She stops, placing her hands together, palms up, struggling, in some strange supplication.


• A flame ignites above her palms and she shakes with the exertion.


• She continues singing, her voice building, her body shaking - decaying so fast it is almost visible.


• In the distance the sounds of a massive crowd carry to the roof.


• CROWD
• 10, 9, 8, 7...


• Her song builds to the climax.


• CROWD
• 4, 3, 2, 1!


• Fireworks explode as the music climbs to the finale; the crowd cheers and the faces along the wall illuminated as the flames seem to glow brighter for a moment.


• She struggles to finish, almost whispering.


• IOLA
• Dona eis requiem, Amen.


• She falls backwards, wings disintegrating as she hits the ground, the flames snuffing themselves out one by one.


• She stares upward into the sky, lights bursting overhead and gasps - as if the collar is choking the life from her.


• Her breathing slows and her glowing eyes, flicker, the last flames to die.


• The faces from the pictures look over her as her eyelids close.


• The lights high above her spray her body in colored light as her broken feathers blow away, scattered across the city like so many ashes as the final notes of the requiem die.


• FADE TO BLACK.

If you're interested, listen to the Lacrimosa of Mozart's Requiem.

365. The Dollmaker's Heart - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. THE DOLLMAKER'S SHOP - NIGHT


• The shop is a small, crowded place, filled with strange tools, tubs of miniature clothing of all sorts, spools of hair, and shelves upon shelves of unfinished dolls.


• NARRATOR (V.O.)
• In a little village, not too far from where you are sitting, lived The Dollmaker. Nobody knew much about him, for they rarely saw him leave his shop. When he did, they knew he would always give a gentle smile, and have some magnificent present for the village children, before he rushed away - and to where? No one knew.


• In the corner of the shop there is a sprawling miniature, stretching from wall to wall, complete with forests, rivers, lakes, and a town.


• NARRATOR (V.O.)
• What no one would ever know, was that the gifts he gave to the village children were mere trifles, the work that stayed within his shop was his true genius. A world for his special creations.


• EXT. MINIATURE WORLD: LAKE - NIGHT


• ARIEL, a doll within the tiny world, sits by the lake, digging into the soft dirt.


• Beside her rests a small glass jar, gleaming in the starlight.


• She looks up, weary, and puts the shovel aside, the hole is deep enough.


• Her articulated wrists are covered in small leather bracelets and beaded strings.


• She has an impressive mohawk that rises high above her head, and a single strand of spike that is carefully placed in front of each ear.


• She wears a dark t-shirt, a skirt, and diamond-patterned fishnet stockings.


• Ariel straightens and pulls off her shirt, shiny plastic skin reflecting in the moonlight.


• She pulls a tiny latch at the center of her ribcage and her chest opens, like two, small wardrobe doors.


• Within her chest, nestled within delicately arched ribs, lies a small, glowing heart.


• She reaches inside and pulls it out, placing in the jar, then closes her chest and pulls her shirt back on.


• She holds the jar up to the light.


• The heart is battered, bits of duct tape and twine holding it together.


• She stares at it for a long moment and then places it in the hole, covering it with dirt and patting it down.


• She stands and walks woodenly back to the town.


• INT. THE DOLLMAKER'S SHOP - NIGHT


• THE DOLLMAKER watches sadly, on his stool, perched above his created world.


• He watches his world through hundreds of small lenses which descend from his ceiling, each calibrated for a different degree of detail.


• EXT. MINIATURE WORLD: ARIEL'S HOUSE - MONTAGE


• Ariel sits in the corner of her home, eyes blank, body still as time passes, day into night and back again, never moving, eyes empty.


• END MONTAGE


• INT. THE DOLLMAKER'S SHOP - NIGHT


• The Dollmaker is sitting on his stool again, watching Ariel through one of his glasses.


• NARRATOR (V.O.)
• The Dollmaker usually left his creations to their own devices, watching, but careful not to interfere too much. But every once in a while...


• As he watches, he sees a tiny rat crawl across the apartment, around Ariel's chair, and over her lap, and she does nothing.


• He purses his lips, then reaches into his world and taps gently on her door with a finger.


• She doesn't move.


• He whispers.


• THE DOLLMAKER
• Little One? Open the door.


• She turns, face pallid from weeks of inactivity and stiffly moves to the door.


• ARIEL
• Why should I open the door?


• THE DOLLMAKER
• Why did you bury the heart I made for you?


• ARIEL
• I'm so tired of it breaking. And nothing I tried helped.


• THE DOLLMAKER
• Would you let me try?


• She pauses then opens the door a crack and sees his hand there, waiting.


• ARIEL
• Alright.


• INT. THE DOLLMAKER'S SHOP - NIGHT


• The Dollmaker walks to a corner of the room where strange, frightening-looking tools hang.


• He pulls off his apron and his shirt, revealing a thick scar that runs down his chest.


• He turns to the wall, removing a large knife, and in a smooth, practiced motion takes a breath, then slices his chest open, crying out.


• He takes a smaller tool, and reaching into his chest, cuts away a piece of flesh.


• He places it in a small jar.


• Taking another heavy breath, he cleans his wound and begins stitching closed his wound, his needle tracing a familiar path up his chest.


• INT. THE DOLLMAKER'S SHOP - NIGHT


• The Dollmaker sits at his work bench, working hard with his tiny tools, crafting a heart from the flesh.


• He leans back in his chair, grimacing for a moment with the pain, then relaxes.


• He holds the tiny heart up to the light, turns a final screw and it begins to glow.


• EXT. MINIATURE WORLD: ARIEL'S HOUSE - DAY


• Ariel blinks awake, still in her chair, as sunlight begins to bathe the room.


• She looks down, surprised; in her lap is a beautiful leather case.


• She opens it carefully and finds the heart, beautiful and brilliant with light.


• A small note is attached to the box.


• THE DOLLMAKER (V.O.)
• Dear One, I cannot promise that it will never break again, but is a safe life worth the emptiness?


• She looks around at the cobwebs that have formed around the room and the chair itself, threatening to make their move on her body.


• THE DOLLMAKER (V.O.)
• Guard your heart, but don't lose it. I can promise that I will always repair it for you. Just ask.


• She pulls it out of the box and with just her touch, light pulses from it into her hand, the warmth of life spreading into her face.


• She turns upward looking out the window and nods.


• INT. THE DOLLMAKER'S SHOP - DAY


• The Dollmaker pulls away from his lenses, a smile on his face.


• He stands up and walks away, leaving the small world to wake up to a new morning.


• FADE TO BLACK.

364. My Dream Girl - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. AIKO AND STEVEN'S ROOM - MORNING


• STEVEN sits in the bed, pulled up to his chest as he watches AIKO wake up.


• She turns over, then opens one eye, looking up at him, and smiles.


• STEVEN
• Hey you, how're you feeling?


• AIKO
• Not too bad, still have that headache though.


• STEVEN
• Well, its Tuesday, so Mike'll be here soon. Hey, I'll go get you some breakfast, you just relax there.


• AIKO
• Thanks babe.


• INT. KITCHEN/DINING ROOM ROOM - MOMENTS LATER


• Steven pads down the hall into the kitchen in his slippers, whistling softly.


• He grabs a tray from the cupboard and starts fixing breakfast, putting a skillet on the stove and tossing tater tots in the oven.


• The doorbell rings and he slides over to the front door, spatula in hand.


• Opening the door, he waves MIKE, who stands on the porch in jeans and a fleece jacket, inside.


• Mike carries an old-fashioned doctor's bag with him.


• They walk down the hall.


• MIKE
• How's she doing?


• STEVEN
• Still's got the headaches.


• MIKE
• Well, let's see if we can finally take care of that today. I got some new meds in that I think will be perfect for her.


• STEVEN
• Mike...


• MIKE
• She's going to be just fine. We'll get her through this ok? And she'll be better than new.


• Steven pulls open the bedroom door and sticks his head in.


• STEVEN
• Hun? Mike's here, says he has some new drugs for you.


• AIKO (OS)
• Hey Mike, is it time for me to get high?


• MIKE
• Be good, Ai.


• She laughs.


• STEVEN
• I'm going to finish breakfast, see you two in a sec.


• Mike slips in, closing the door behind him, leaving it open just a crack.


• Steven walks the few steps back to the kitchen and checks the skillet's heat.


• He turns it down a bit and grabs eggs from the refrigerator.


• As he closes the fridge door, he notices that the sink is dirty


• He lets out a half-exasperated, half-amused sigh.


• STEVEN
• Woman, will you ever learn?


• He reaches for a dishrag, his hand landing on cold metal.


• He looks around, then under the sink, finding nothing.


• He heads back up the hallway and pulls open a closet door opposite to the bedroom.


• Inside, towels and dish clothes sit, neatly stacked.


• AIKO (OS)
• Will this be the last upgrade, do you think? I'm pretty tired of the headaches.


• MIKE (OS)
• I'm hoping.


• Steven grabs a dish towel and pauses.


• There is a pneumatic hiss and Aiko sighs.


• Steven tiptoes to the door and peeks through the crack.


• Aiko rests against the bed's backboard, her left arm lying above the sheets, a section of her skin pulled away to reveal small ports into which Mike has plugged several small devices.


• Steven stares in horror and backs away, tripping and pushing the door open.


• INT. AIKO AND STEVEN'S ROOM - MORNING


• Mike and Aiko stare as he tumbles in.


• STEVEN
• How could you bring that thing in here?


• AIKO
• Babe, it' me. I'm still Aiko, I haven't changed.


• Steven gets up, staring straight at Mike, unable to acknowledge Aiko.


• STEVEN
• I told you I wanted nothing to do with your love bots.


• MIKE (OS)
• She's not just a love bot, Steve, she's designed just for you - she not some brainless plastiwhore, I mean, she's as real as they get - more real than most women out there.


• STEVEN
• Out. Get it out of my room.


• AIKO
• Baby, please!


• The look of horror is locked onto Steven's face.


• He stumbles to the bathroom and sounds of him throwing up travel out into the bedroom.


• Smoke begins to enter the room from the burning potatoes.


• The fire alarm goes off.


• INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY


• Steven sits on the couch, his fingers tapping angrily on the glass of the coffee table in front of him.


• Mike sits next him.


• The front door is open and through it, they can see TECHS carefully boxing Aiko.


• She is still awake.


• AIKO
• Steve, please, Steve, I love you. Please, please don't let them take me away. Steve!


• STEVEN
• How could you have gone specifically against what I wanted Mike? If I wanted some computer programmed to love me, I would have said so.


• MIKE
• You know she was the only way.


• STEVEN
• Only way to do what?


• MIKE
• You know that she was the only way to get what you were looking for.


• STEVEN
• Everything was perfect, the way we met, her just being so amazingly spontaneous. And it's all fiction. All 1's and 0's.


• MIKE
• It wasn't made up, you both experienced it - she just happened to be a little more predisposed for it.


• STEVEN
• Screw you.


• A TECH walks in.


• TECH
• Excuse me sir, I need you to sign the deactivation and memory wipe papers. You'll see that reactivation is available for up to three months after the memory wipe.


• STEVEN
• Ok.


• TECH
• Sign here...and here.


• Steven places the papers against the glass and signs them.


• The Tech takes them back and nods to his coworkers outside.


• AIKO
• Please Steve, please.


• Her voice trails off, then stops, her eyes closing as the techs fiddle with buttons on a small remote.


• MIKE
• You can still stop them. C'mon! You two were perfect for each other - no one else will ever come that close to making you happy. And you made her happy.


• STEVEN
• Made her happy? Come on.


• He almost chokes on his disgust.


• The techs finish sealing the crate and move away, revealing a large logo stamped across the front, reading "My Dream Girl."


• Steven crosses his arms and stares away from the open door while Mike watches sadly as the techs roll the crate onto their van and drive away.


• FADE TO BLACK.

363. Wind Child - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. THE BUSINESS DISTRICT - DAY


• JERRY DICHTER makes his way through the press of bodies on the sidewalk, all racing along - a sea of suited bodies flowing in neat waves.


• Jerry is almost invisible in the crowd, his neatly tailored suit and handsome briefcase giving him distinguished anonymity.


• His face is a mask of professionalism - determined busyness.


• A spot of color appears in the crowd as MAKANI enters the flow, pushing opposite of the majority of the crowd - a colorful fish swimming upstream.


• She pushes past a group of business people and stops, face to face with Jerry.


• He stops, off-balance.


• Regaining his balance, he moves to get around her.


• She puts out her hand, in a slight, graceful movement halting him.


• MAKANI
• Are you listening?


• JERRY
• Are you crazy?


• He pushes past her, returning to the anonymity of the crowd, shaking his head.


• He puts his head down, checking his watch, his feet moving in measured, quick steps.


• He looks up and skids to a stop again.


• Makani is again in front of him.


• The wind ripples through her hair.


• MAKANI
• Are you listening?


• He attempts to ignore her and skirts around her.


• He walks faster, looking straight ahead as if locked into invisible blinders.


• He looks behind him and sighs with relief when he sees that she is not following him.


• Turning back, he lets out a sharp breath of surprise.


• She stands, hands behind her back, the breeze playing with the edge of her skirt as she smiles, cat-like, at him.


• The crowd flows around them, water rushing around a rock in a stream.


• She moves close to him.


• MAKANI
• Jerry, are you listening?


• He catches sight of her eyes and is transfixed by them.


• Her pupils are midnight black, surrounded by irises which flare and pulse with color, like miniature nebulae.


• He feels pulled closer in and for a moment sees tiny dots swirl in her pupils, like tiny planets orbiting a dark star.


• Jerry is lost, time slowing to a viscous flow.


• Makani blinks, looking away, suddenly shy, and Jerry snaps out of it.


• JERRY
• I'm listening.


• She leans closer, whispering.


• MAKANI
• Take your shoes off Jerry, this is holy ground.


• He looks at her for a moment, then reluctantly pulls his shoes off.


• He wears one bright orange sock and one striped blue and black sock, their colors joining hers in their flashy protest against the monochromatic mass around them.


• He stands, uncomfortable.


• She stretches her hand out again.


• MAKANI
• Close your eyes.


• He obeys, reluctantly.


• MAKANI
• When the wind calls, you will listen, you will follow its voice, and follow it to places you won't want to go, but you will serve, and through that service you'll find a deep joy.


• A powerful wind picks up out of nowhere and swirls around Jerry as he opens his eyes.


• His irises flare, now swirling with color.


• Makani smiles, turns, and is gone, lost in the ocean of black and gray.


• Jerry holds his shoes in one hand, the crowd pushing around him.


• His face is no longer locked into its former mask but has melted - a deeper emotion than he has ever felt filling his eyes and lips.


• The wind blows and he begins walking almost unaware that he is moving again, shoes still in hand.


• He realizes what has happened and lets out a loud laugh, then continues walking.


• FADE TO BLACK.

362. The Awakening of Emily B. Waterford - Leslie

This script was inspired by a project I did a few years ago. Please Click on the image to see it in full view.

• FADE IN:


• INT. EMILY'S HOUSE: HALLWAY - DAY


• Sunlight spills into the hallway from the living room.


• EMILY B. WATERFORD slips out her bedroom wrapped in a soft bathrobe.


• She smiles, whistling a bit as she shuffles in her slipper-clad feet towards the bathroom.


• INT. EMILY'S HOUSE: BATHROOM - DAY


• Emily brushes her teeth, staring absently at the Van Gogh print that hangs on the opposite wall.


• The painting is one of the few sources of warmth in the cool, modern bathroom.


• She rinses her mouth out, spits into the sink, then pauses as she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror.


• A strange hairline runs down her jawline.


• She rolls her eyes.


• EMILY
• Oh, not again!


• She pulls reaches for a bottle of lotion sitting above the sink and liberally applies a large dollop to her face.


• She turns to leave without giving her face a second glance.


• INT. EMILY'S HOUSE: KITCHEN - DAY


• Emily sits at a small breakfast table at the center of the kitchen.


• An expensive cookware set hangs on a steel rack above the oven.


• The oven's brushed metal surface gleams in the morning sun which is now pouring through a large picture window in the living room.


• The rooms are somewhat spartan in their modern minalism, but a well-placed lamp or set of candles provide needed warmth around the space.


• Emily sips a cup of coffee, enjoying her view of the city below her through the large window.


• She turns and stops, catching sight of her reflection in the oven window.


• Putting her mug down, she stands and walks over to the oven, stooping to get a better look.


• The hairline crack is still there.


• EMILY
• Weird.


• She touches her face and skin of her cheek lifts slightly away from the line.


• Repulsed, she pulls her hand away.


• She stares, then touches it again.


• More skin pulls away.


• She lets out a sharp breath, then almost by compulsion, pulls more.


• In a smooth motion her face pulls completely off into her hands.


• She looks down at her face, sitting, perfectly formed, like a grotesque mask, in her hands.


• EXT. RUINS - DAY


• It takes her a moment to realize that her house no longer exists.


• The world she knows is gone, replaced by a dirty, destroyed city.


• Breathing hard, she gingerly touches her face, horrified at what she might find.


• Her face is still intact, soft from a lifetime under the strange mask.


• She looks around at the new world around her.


• People wander blithely through the wreckage, their eyes blank.


• She turns and sees her neighbors sitting in the dirt, making the motions of eating breakfast.


• She runs over to them and sees that they too seem to be wearing the odd masks.


• She looks down at the mask that is still in her hands.


• Grabbing it, she attempts to force it back onto her face, but it does not hold.


• She tries again and again as it becomes more and more damaged.


• She places it on her face one more time, trying to force it to stretch into place and it tears.


• The pieces in her hand, she sits down in the ashes, despondent.


• She tosses the torn mask aside and her eyes follow the pieces as they get picked up by the wind, then dashed into the remnants of a brick wall, right next to another mask.


• She stands, surprised, as she catches sight of the second torn mask.


• She walks towards it and sees another and another forming a crooked line to the horizon.


• Emily follows the masks, growing smaller and smaller until she fades into the horizon.


• FADE TO BLACK.

361. Don't You Know - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. HIGH SCHOOL CLASSROOM - DAY


• SETH sits at his desk taking notes as MR. SCHNEIDER drones on.


• MR. SCHNEIDER
• These are the tentpegs of Greek literature, people, take note. The hero, his hubris, the hamartia he commits because of that hubris, his realization that his fate is inescapable, and your katharsis as you receive enlightenment about your own situation. Note it well, folks - this far into the year, you shouldn't have to ask me what all this means.


• Seth senses something and looks up.


• MEGAN is standing at the narrow window, gesturing at him.


• He nods and raises his hand.


• She slips out of sight.


• MR. SCHNEIDER
• Yes, Mr. Hamra?


• SETH
• May I get a hall pass? I think I ate something that disagreed with me last night, and well...


• The other students snicker.


• Mr. Schneider sighs.


• MR. SCHNEIDER
• Alright, Seth - but only because you seem to be paying attention. Hubris?


• SETH
• An act of imbalance. A person acting in a way, often inspired by arrogance, which places him in a state of imbalance that must be righted.


• MR. SCHNEIDER
• Good enough.


• He fills out the slip and Seth moves forward quickly, hand on his stomach, and takes it from Mr. Schneider.


• MR. SCHNEIDER
• You really should watch your diet Mr. Hamra; this happens far too often for my comfort.


• Seth nods and hurries out of the room.


• EXT. HIGH SCHOOL - DAY


• Seth comes around a corner of the brick building and finds Megan sitting on of the benches that rest against the wall.


• He sits down next to her and she move closer and puts her head on his shoulder.


• He takes out his watch and sets the timer for five minutes.


• SETH
• Last night that bad?


• MEGAN
• I'm fat and I'm ugly.


• SETH
• I'd tell you that you're not, because you're not - but I'm tired of saying it and not having you believe me. But you're not.


• MEGAN
• That's sweet of you.


• SETH
• He called you fat and ugly and he laughed at you and then you went down on him. Please, don't tell me who "he" is this time.


• She wipes her eyes.


• MEGAN
• You're getting good at this. At least it's not sex.


• SETH
• I think it is.


• MEGAN
• Well, thanks for making me feel like a slut now.


• SETH
• Did I say that? It's just that sex is up here.


• He taps his head.


• SETH
• I mean, you kiss someone the right way and that's sex. Sure it's not all the same, but it's not as clearly defined as any of us want it to be. It's all a big gray...


• He waves his hands around.


• SETH
• I'm sorry. Are you ok?


• MEGAN
• Not really. I know, I know what you're going to say. Don't. Can we just sit here?


• SETH
• Ok.


• They sit on the bench, fall leaves drifting to the ground around them as the time ticks away.


• The timer on the watch buzzes, startling both of them.


• Megan pulls away from Seth and stands up.


• SETH
• You're absolutely beautiful. Maybe one day you'll get that. And the day you get it, everyone else will too.


• MEGAN
• See, I knew you were going to say something.


• Seth shrugs.


• MEGAN
• Thanks, I'll see you later. And you should probably come up with a better excuse.


• He smiles.


• She walks away, heading around the corner, pausing, just out of his line of sight, and peeking back at him.


• Seth sits on the bench for a moment longer.


• His smile fades.


• SETH
• You're absolutely beautiful. You walk into a room and there's just this way that light wraps around your face. Ah, crap.


• He touches the part of his shoulder where her head rested and sits like that for a moment.


• Megan watches and lifts her foot to take a step back to the bench, then pauses.


• She takes one more look at him, then turns, and slips back towards the entrance as Seth sits lost in thought.


• FADE TO BLACK.

360. The Borrowed Coat - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. THE SPOT SOUP KITCHEN - DAY


• The Spot is a small, cafe-like space, with 6 large, circular tables arranged neatly around the room and a few couches in the corners. Each table is decorated with Christmas candles and wreaths.


• The room is packed with a variety of homeless people enjoying Christmas dinner.


• A serving window connects the dining room with the kitchen, in which several volunteers are busy cooking.


• MIRI carefully monitors the turkey and potato wedges cooking in the oven.


• She bastes the potatoes with an herb butter mixture, watches for a moment more, then closes the heavy metal door.


• A box of clothes sits in a corner of the kitchen.


• Miri walks past it, to a stool over which her heavy wool coat is draped and feels around her pockets.


• She pulls out her cellphone and checks the time, then absently sticks it into her pants' pocket.


• MIRI
• Abby?


• ABBY, a tall woman busy searing chicken spins around.


• Miri jerks her head in the direction of the clothes.


• ABBY
• Oh, kids from one of the local churches...they're going to stop by and pick 'em up - take 'em to some of the shelters.


• MIRI
• Ah.


• She returns to the potatoes.


• The front door of the soup kitchen bursts open and a group of kids, wrapped tight in coats and scarves against the cold.


• The weave between the tables, talking and laughing loudly.


• FERNANDO, one of the group leaders grabs the box, spilling some onto the floor.


• He grabs them and grabs Miri's coat as well, tossing into onto the pile.


• FERNANDO
• Hey, thanks so much for letting use the space.


• ABBY
• No problem at all. How's it gone so far?


• FERNANDO
• Ah, it's been great, great. Some of the kids are going to head off and drop these off at a few places. Thanks again.


• Abby and Miri wave and he heads out, the flock of teenagers and young adults following him.


• Miri pulls the potatoes and turkey out of the oven, placing them on the serving window counter.


• MIRI
• Alright, Abs, I'm out.


• ABBY
• By darling, thanks for stopping by and helping - you and that fantastic turkey you make.


• MIRI
• You just want me for my turkey.


• ABBY
• All too true.


• Miri heads out of the kitchen and to the front door.


• She opens the front door and is hit with a blast of cold air.


• MIRI
• Oh!


• She closes the door and rushes back to the kitchen.


• Heading to the stool, she stops short, noticing that her coat isn't there.


• She looks around.


• MIRI
• Hey, has anyone seen my coat.


• ABBY
• Stool.


• MIRI
• Nope. I gotta find it - I've got my iPod in the pocket...and my keys! Oh, my keys...shoot!


• Abby turns around.


• ABBY
• Huh...you think that they?


• MIRI
• Nah, couldn't have, it wasn't close to that box.


• ABBY
• It was a bit.


• Miri waves her hand and turns in a circle, looking.


• She walks back into the dining room, searching.


• INT. CAR - DAY


• The box of clothes bounces along on the backseat of the car, a piece Miri's coat sticking out a few layers from the top.


• INT. THE SPOT SOUP KITCHEN - DAY


• The Spot is emptying quickly, its patrons bundling up and slipping out into the late afternoon.


• Miri and Abby washes dishes in the kitchen.


• ABBY
• Thanks for sticking around.


• She smirks.


• MIRI
• Not funny.


• ABBY
• Well, at least Fernando's looking for it.


• MIRI
• You know, the iPod doesn't really matter that much - I've got all the music on the computer anyway...but the keys. I need my keys. And it's cold! I'm not going out there without that jacket. It's my nice jacket. My hippie jacket from London.


• Abby grimaces sympathetically and keeps scrubbing at a pot.


• ABBY
• You did call him, right?


• MIRI
• I called - he's looking.


• MONTAGE


• 1. The car comes to a stop and clothes are grabbed from the box, Miri's coat gets shoved aside.


• 2. Miri sprawls on one of the couches in the now empty soup kitchen. She gets up and searches for the coat a bit, then goes the kitchen and grabs a broom and begins to sweep the dining room.


• 3. The car speeds off to its new destination, the box somewhat emptier.


• 4. Miri sits up straight on the couch, the broom leaning against the couch, inspecting her phone, then pacing.


• 5. The car is stopped in front of another shelter and more clothes are pulled from it.


• 6. Miri sits on the edge of a tabling staring off into space while Abby sits on the couch reading a magazine.


• 7. The car pulls into another shelter and the rest of the clothes are pulled out.


• END MONTAGE


• INT. MIRIAM'S HOUSE WOMEN'S SHELTER - EVENING


• Fernando stands in the corner of the shelter lobby speaking quietly into his cell phone.


• FERNANDO
• Hey, Hey Miri - Yes, this is Fernando. Ok, so I found your coat, but there's a problem.


• He looks across the room.


• LUCY is wrapped in the coat, enjoying its warmth.


• FERNANDO
• No, no - it's just that, it was given to someone. Um, I can get it for you.


• INT. THE SPOT SOUP KITCHEN - EVENING


• Miri sits on the couch, holding the phone sleepily.


• MIRI
• Oh, no, no, let her keep it. But just one favor.


• INT. MIRIAM'S HOUSE WOMEN'S SHELTER - MOMENTS LATER


• Fernando approaches Lucy awkwardly.


• FERNANDO
• Would you mind, um, could I see the coat for a second? I promise, I'll give it back.


• She looks at him skeptically.


• FERNANDO
• I just...there's something in the pockets, um, something that I have to give back to someone.


• She just looks at him.


• LUCY
• Well, I'm not taking it off.


• FERNANDO
• Umm.


• He reaches over gingerly and sticks his hand in one of the pockets - its empty.


• He tries the other one, but no luck.


• FERNANDO
• Is there an inside pocket?


• She contemplates for a moment, then slowly opens her coat.


• He carefully reaches inside and lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls out a tangle of keys, headphones, and the iPod.


• INT. THE SPOT SOUP KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER


• Miri holds the phone to his ear, half listening.


• She looks over at Abby, who waits expectantly, and whispers.


• MIRI
• He's so sweet, he searched all over East LA for that stupid coat.


• She smiles as Fernando says something.


• MIRI
• No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry you had to go searching - thanks so much, I really appreciate it. Ok, goodbye, you have a Merry Christmas too.


• She hangs up, slipping the phone into her pocket.


• ABBY
• So, did he find your jacket, is he bringing it back?


• MIRI
• Yes, no.


• She leans back into the couch cushions and closes her eyes, leaving Abby to stare at her, confused.


• FADE TO BLACK.

359. The Belated Apology - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. COLLEGE BANQUET HALL - EVENING


• The banquet hall is packed with people milling around tables, the buzz loud buzz of conversation filling the place.


• A sign hangs above the small stage near the front, proclaiming WELCOME HOME ALUMNI!


• JACK wanders the tables, searching for familiar faces.


• He winds his way through the mass of people and spots an empty table on the edge of the room.


• He sits down sideways, head still swiveling to pick out a familiar face.


• Hearing someone sit at the table, he turns around.


• LIZA is sitting across from him, her name printed in large sharpie letter on her name tag.


• She gives him a half smile.


• LIZA
• Hey Jack.


• JACK
• Wow...it's been forever.


• LIZA
• Fifteen years.


• JACK
• How are things? I heard you'd gotten married to Henry - you guys running a restaurant?


• LIZA
• We co-own it and I'm the exec chef.


• JACK
• Wow, that's pretty amazing. Sounds like it worked out well for you - it's what you wanted...exactly.


• LIZA
• I'm kind of impressed with myself too. You still designing clothes?


• JACK
• Still doing the fashion thing. Had a runway show in New York two months ago - still tough, but it's getting better.


• LIZA
• Good to hear you're sticking with it.


• They pause awkwardly and Jack looks around.


• He looks back, Liza's ring catching his eye.


• JACK
• How's Henry?


• LIZA
• He's good, he's good.


• They are silent for a while longer.


• JACK
• I'm sorry, I have to ask. This has been eating away at me since college.


• LIZA
• Yeah?


• JACK
• Did I break your heart?


• LIZA
• Yeah, you did. It wasn't the worst heartbreak I've ever had, wasn't the worst heartbreak at the time, but you did.


• JACK
• I just...


• LIZA
• One day everything was ok, the next you couldn't even hold my hand without wincing.


• JACK
• Yeah, I guess it seemed like it. Internally, I'd been debating for a long time - and I guess one day, I just realized it wasn't working, and then it got really hard.


• LIZA
• You could have said something, and not tried, badly, to keep things going.


• JACK
• Man, I must have been the biggest idiot.


• LIZA
• You were a jerk.


• JACK
• The more I've thought about it, the worse I've felt. I wanted to be perfect, the perfect nice guy - and instead...


• LIZA
• You were really sweet, you were the nice guy - you just handled the whole break-up part badly.


• JACK
• And the worst of it was,


• LIZA
• That you never said anything and I had to break up with you - and I was still very in love with you. I had to break up for you.


• JACK
• I really screwed up and I never apologized. I'm so sorry. I really am.


• LIZA
• It's ok, I got over it - we both learned. At least I did. You better have.


• JACK
• And keep learning every day.


• Liza glances over at the bar on the other side of the room.


• LIZA
• Hey, Henry's waiting for me. I just wanted to say hi.


• JACK
• Good seeing you.


• LIZA
• You too. Hey, chin up. You're still a nice guy. Just, well, you know. But you say you've learned.


• JACK
• I'm sorry.


• LIZA
• Bye, Jack.


• JACK
• Bye.


• He watches her go, then turns to the wall and slumps a bit in his chair.


• FADE TO BLACK.

358. Fate, Manufactured - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY


• PAUL wanders the rows of stalls idly, inspecting everything from neatly labeled jars of wild honey to sniffing at soy candles.


• The market is packed with every type of booth imaginable.


• Paul trips over a small pile of postcards, sending them flying.


• He looks around, embarrassed, then, assured of his conspicuousness, he reaches down and grabs a card, walking casually away from the mess.


• When he's moved far enough away, he looks down to read what he's holding.


• It's a simple card, printed on thick, brown, recycled paper. and it reads "Gypsy Market: Catch us if you can".


• PAUL
• Well, that's silly.


• He looks around, then heads to the closest booth and approaches the vendor.


• PAUL
• Hey, can you tell me where this is? The Gypsy Market?


• VENDOR
• Sorry, I've got no idea. Maybe if you follow the closest pair of dreads.


• PAUL
• Heh, thanks.


• Paul wanders a bit more, peering at booth titles.


• He nears the end of the row of booths and then stops.


• A small sign hangs on a streetlight pole
  among the usual collection of lost-and-found notices, concert flyers, and random ads.


• It reads "Gypsy Market," with a small arrow pointing left.


• He heads left, behind booths, cutting behind the rows and rows of vendors.


• The booths then and he finds himself at the edge of the farmer's market.


• A ring of RVs and caravans are parked in a semi-circle, there at the edge, tables and booths piled full of wares.


• Paul smiles and clenches his fist in small gesture of victory.


• He enters the semi-circle, one of a few shoppers eyeing the wares.


• Several of the shoppers are engaged in loud and cheerful bargaining with the vendors.


• He scans the tables an finds a small one covered with votive holders, small lamps, and little figurines crafted out of scrap metal.


• He stops to inspect the figurines, which are put together with a surprising amount of skill and intricacy.


• KATE, a girl with carefully mismanaged dreads, an exotic looking jacket, and flared jeans covered with well-placed flecks of paint, slips out of the RV directly behind the table and comes up to Paul.


• KATE
• So you like my little toys?


• Paul pauses.


• Her accent is a north English one, surprising and beautiful.


• PAUL
• Eh, they're nice enough.


• KATE
• Oh, I know you love them - look at you, trying to drive a hard bargain.


• PAUL
• Like I said, they're ok.


• KATE
• Ok, mister.


• He scans the table, feigning boredom.


• PAUL
• So what inspired these?


• KATE
• Oh, a summer of reading Flannery O'Connor and a weird assortment of steampunk lit.


• Paul's mask cracks.


• KATE
• Ah, ha! See. Not only do you love my little creations, you are either a fan of dear old Flannery or steampunk lit.


• PAUL
• What? I didn't say anything.


• KATE
• Come off of it.


• PAUL
• Both.


• KATE
• Oh, my dear, I have you, don't I?


• PAUL
• You've utterly destroyed my bargaining position.


• KATE
• Well, you're cute - and you obviously have good taste, so we'll see what I can do for you.


• PAUL
• And now you're trying to rush me. I'm still just looking.


• She smiles coyly.


• PAUL
• So when did you discover Flannery?


• KATE
• A library in Stevensville, Michigan.


• PAUL
• Visiting family?


• KATE
• Do I sound American?


• PAUL
• You could have American family, I'm just saying.


• KATE
• The caravan was there for a few weeks.


• PAUL
• Wait, so you guys really are gypsies? I thought maybe this was a cool marketing gag for a store, or just something local. So you don't live anywhere?


• KATE
• Homeless and couldn't be happier.


• PAUL
• Wow. So why'd you move to the States?


• KATE
• What is this, a first date?


• PAUL
• Oh, sorry, guess I was trying to give you the sixth degree there.


• KATE
• 'Tis alright. Now which piece do you want.


• Paul points to a dancer with a gas mask that covers the lower part of her face and nail file blades in either hand.


• PAUL
• I see the steampunk influence, but the Flannery?


• KATE
• If I could explain everything about my art or how something influenced it, it wouldn't be art, now would it?


• PAUL
• Fine. So how much?


• KATE
• What do you think is fair?


• PAUL
• You tell me.


• KATE
• Fifty.


• PAUL
• Ha! If you noticed, this isn't a gallery show and I'm not Daddy Warbucks - Fifteen.


• KATE
• See, I had started to like you. Are you delirious? Forty-Five.


• PAUL
• Twenty.


• KATE
• Thirty, I'll go no lower.


• PAUL
• Twenty-Five.


• KATE
• Thirty-Five.


• PAUL
• Was nice talking to you.


• He begins to walk away.


• Kate grimaces.


• KATE
• Twenty-Seven.


• Paul spins around.


• PAUL
• Done.


• He counts out the money.


• PAUL
• So how much do you usually sell these things for, twenty?


• Kate doesn't say anything, but her eyes twinkle as she wraps up the figurine.


• PAUL
• Figures. So how often do you guys come around the area?


• KATE
• I don't really know, this is our first time. Maybe we'll be back; maybe we won't. We just go where the wind takes us.


• PAUL
• Oh.


• KATE
• I'm sorry.


• PAUL
• Well, I was going to take you out next time you were in town - but since you won't be, you have some time today?


• KATE
• Sorry, no - we're leaving as soon as we finish here. But, if I could, I would - like I said, you have good taste.


• PAUL
• See, we shouldn't leave something like this to chance - you have some kind of contact?


• KATE
• What better thing to leave to chance? The world is infinitely smaller and larger than you can imagine. If we're supposed to meet again, we will.


• PAUL
• And what about us making our own fates?


• Kate shrugs, smiling, and walks around the table to hand him the figurine.


• PAUL
• Or maybe you just don't to see me again, eh? Just being nice?


• KATE
• Maybe it is that only, yea?


• PAUL
• You really would leave it to fate?


• KATE
• Life is strange. We'll bump into each other again if we're supposed to. If not, we have these sweet memories.


• She hugs him and surprised, he hugs her back.


• She steps away.


• PAUL
• Well, ok, here's to fate then.


• KATE
• Kate, I'm Kate.


• PAUL
• Paul, Paul McGrew.


• KATE
• Be well, Paul.


• He walks away from the table and waves, then heads back to the main market, figurine in hand, his face a bemused mix of emotions.


• ARI walks over to Kate from his booth.


• She's inspecting Paul's business card in her hand.


• ARI
• Who was that then? And when did you start hugging folk? Did you whip him that badly on the price?


• She smiles and waves the business card bearing Paul's name at him.


• KATE
• He didn't do too bad.


• ARI
• Oh ho, you are a sneaky one. He was that special, was he?


• KATE
• I think so, yea.


• ARI
• What happened to fate? The world being big and small or whatever that crap is you say?


• KATE
• You can't leave something like this to chance.


• ARI
• Hypocrite!


• She smiles, then leans back against her RV and inspects the card again.


• FADE TO BLACK.

357. The Misdirect - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. MAIN STREET SIDEWALK - DAY


• TIGHE stands in the middle of the sidewalk staring up at a tree growing up out of a planter dividing the path.


• Its slender trunk swirls upwards; its smooth, paper-like bark spiraling up towards the branches.


• With its small, amber-colored leaves, it could have been pulled straight from a Disney film.


• Tighe ponders the tree, slack jawed, not moving a muscle.


• People pass him on the sidewalk, paying little or no attention to him - he is a familiar sight.


• A Group of TEENAGE BOYS walks up to him, all bravado.


• Tighe flinches, pulling away from them, his hands curled at his side, fingers feeling at the air.


• BOY 1
• Hey, what's up in that tree, Tighe? What's so interesting?


• BOY 2
• I betcha he's looking for the shortbus.


• BOY 1
• Is that what you're looking for? Aren't you a little big for the shortbus?


• The boys laugh, attracting DENNIS' attention.


• He makes a beeline for them.


• DENNIS
• Hey, leave him alone, go on!


• The boys walk away, sneering and laughing.


• DENNIS
• Hey Tighe, c'mon man; you've been staring at that tree for as long as I can remember. Maybe it's time to find another tree.


• Tighe barely reacts, blinking fast.


• DENNIS
• You keep this up, people are going to think you're slow.


• He chuckles.


• Tighe's phone suddenly rings, startling both of them--a cheerful, electronic polka.


• He reaches for his pocket, trying to get to it.


• Dennis watches awkwardly, moving in to help, then back away.


• The phone stops ringing.


• Tighe looks at Dennis with his half-empty eyes.


• TIGHE
• Gotta go, gotta go.


• He moves away with surprising speed, his stride jerky, his hands clenching and unclenching, head tilted to the side.


• EXT. TIGHE'S HOUSE - DAY


• The street on which Tighe's house is lined with trees that hide the slightly decrepit state of the neighborhood.


• He rounds the corner, his tilted gait identifying him from a ways off.


• He gets to his house and walks up the sidewalk, fumbling for his keys.


• He finds them and gets the door open, sliding inside.


• INT. TIGHE'S HOUSE: ENTRANCE - DAY


• The house is simple; it doesn't appear to have been re-decorated since the 70s.


• Tighe makes his way down the single hallway and halfway down the hall, his shoulders relax and his eyes clear.


• He shuffles into his bedroom.


• INT. TIGHE'S HOUSE: BEDROOM - DAY


• His fists clench and unclenching, Tighe walks to his desk and sits, carefully.


• The room is filled with beautiful sketches, drawings, and paintings of the tree from every angle imaginable.


• Where there aren't paintings, there are bookshelves packed with classics.


• He leans over, painfully removing colored pencils from a drawer and flips open a sketchpad.


• Reaching over to a cd player perched at the edge of the desk, he punches the play button, and the sounds of Mendelssohn fill the room.


• He smiles, his lips splitting in a strange grimace, then bends over the sketchbook and begins a new version of the tree.


• FADE TO BLACK.

356. Joy - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. PORCH - NIGHT


• LEE sits on the broad porch of a California bungalow-style house.


• The porch wraps around the front and side of the house, its wooden floor glowing orange from the lamps within the house, their comfortable light spreading out from the large picture windows that run parallel to the porch.


• The street on which the house sits radiates warmth and safety, its houses displaying neatly arranged Christmas lights in addition to an assortment of antique-looking street lamps.


• Many of the houses have their own unique lamps, all spilling orange warmth onto the street; some hanging above porches, some above gates, which serve more for show than any essential purpose.


• Lee wobbles back in forth in one of the wicker rocking chairs scattered around the porch.


• A small tape recorder sits in his lap.


• He takes a breath and hits play.


• JOY (V.O.)
• Hola, darling; this is me, Joy.


• He stops the tape, rewinds.


• JOY (V.O.)
• Hola, darling; this is me, Joy.


• He stops it and looks out over the street, shivering.


• He pulls his coat and scarf tighter as a stiff breeze pulls dead leaves from the trees lining the street.


• Inside the house, Lee's brother, DAVE watches from one of the windows.


• He purses his lips and heads to the door, only to be restrained by ALI, his wife.


• They wait, concerned, watching Lee through the window.


• He presses the play button again.


• JOY (V.O.)
• I'm so sorry, baby - I didn't want to go this way. Make sure you're on the porch when you play this - I love how - I loved how - is it weird for me to speak about myself in the past tense? I know, you're getting upset now; I shouldn't take this so lightly. I loved how the neighborhood looked at night. That's how a neighborhood should look, inviting, safe. I miss you already. I can hear you in the kitchen right now and I'm wondering what you will do when you find me. I can't joke anymore, not really - and I think that's when it's over. This is all wrong, but I don't know what else I can do. If not now, then my pet monster will take over my brain, and all the treatments will turn me into a living skeleton. There's no need for that. I don't want you to see me like that. So, so I'm going to go now. I'm going to hit stop on this thing, and I'm going to go. I love you, babe. We didn't get enough time together, did we? Next time, ok? We'll do it right next time.


• Lee slumps, then hits rewind and waits.


• The tape clicks to a stop.


• JOY (V.O.)
• Hola, darling; this is me, Joy.


• He stops it, hits rewind again, then play.


• JOY (V.O.)
• Hola, darling; this is me, Joy.


• He stops it and rewinds again.


• FADE TO BLACK.

355. The Starlight Coast - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. AMTRAK COAST STARLIGHT TRAIN - DAY


• WILL wanders into the observation car of the train, marveling at the southern Californian coastline.


• He slides into a seat next to the massive window and stares as the train races north.


• He begins to doze off.


• LEANN walks into car and looks around for a free seat; she spots the seat next to Will and heads towards it.


• She stops in the aisle, leaning over to tap Will on the shoulder.


• He blinks sleepily.


• WILL
• Ehm?


• LEANN
• Hey, would you mind me sitting next to you?


• WILL
• Hmm? Oh, no, no, that's fine.


• She slides into the seat next to him and slips off her jacket, revealing a short-sleeved blouse with intricate button work.


• Cherry blossoms are tattooed across her right shoulder, the petals spilling onto her biceps.


• Will admires them.


• WILL
• Is spring your favorite season?


• LEANN
• Oh, no. I'm melancholy, and I think by definition we love fall - it's in our nature. The most bittersweet of seasons. I just need to remember, every once in a while, that spring is coming.


• WILL
• Cool. I'm a fall guy too.


• LEANN
• I suspected. I always daydream about meeting cool, like-minded strangers on the train. It doesn't happen nearly as much as it should. Thankfully, you were here today.


• WILL
• Well, I'm flattered. You travel the rails much?


• LEANN
• The rails?


• WILL
• Yeah, maybe shouldn't have said that out loud.


• LEANN
• It's ok. I live in Portland, but I do a lot of gallery shows in LA. It'd probably be faster to fly - well, I know it would, but trains, I'm completely in love with trains.


• WILL
• Oh, me too. Lived in Germany for a summer, was completely amazed at how easy it was to get around. Promised myself I'd use public transport as much as I could when I got back here.


• LEANN
• A man after my own heart.


• They smile at each other.


• LEANN
• Oh, look! This is one of my favorite parts of the coast.


• WILL
• You do do this a lot.


• LEANN
• Oh yeah.


• WILL
• It's beautiful.


• They watch out the window for a while in awe.


• Will relaxes into his sit again, content in the quiet.


• LEANN
• This might be a bit forward, sorry - would you mind if I used your shoulder as a pillow?


• WILL
• No problem.


• LEANN
• Thanks dashing train stranger.


• Will opens his mouth, attempting to find a response, then gives up.


• He gestures to his shoulder.


• WILL
• All yours.


• She puts her head down on his shoulder and he looks back outside at the world racing by.


• FADE TO BLACK.

354. A Tomaszewski Christmas - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. WARSAW OLD TOWN (STARE MIASTO) - DAY


• ABEL walks the edges of the Old Town's market square, staring up in awe at the colorfully painted buildings that ring the cobblestoned area.


• He is so lost in the world above him that he doesn't notice KSENIA barreling towards him on her bike - and she, distracted by the the bags she is trying to balance on the bike.


• Abel steps right into her path and she slams into him sending the two of them sprawling.


• He scrambles up.


• ABEL
• Prosze...eh...przepraszam? Ehm...


• Ksenia sits up.


• KSENIA
• It's ok, I speak English.


• ABEL
• I'm really sorry.


• Ksenia shrugs.


• Abel rushes to help her put her bags back in order.


• She stands, righting her bike.


• ABEL
• Where are you going? I can help.


• KSENIA
• Just there.


• She points to a small shop at the end of the square.


• Abel hoists the bags and they walk across the cobbles, Ksenia pushing her bike.


• She parks the bike in front of the shop and Abel hands her the bag.


• ABEL
• Sorry again.


• KSENIA
• No problem.


• She takes a closer look at him.


• ABEL
• Have a good day.


• He begins to head off.


• KSENIA
• Wait, you - are you here in Warszawa alone?


• ABEL
• Yeah, just traveling around for my vacation.


• Ksenia tsks and shakes her head.


• KSENIA
• Come, have dinner with my family. It's no good to be alone for Christmas.


• ABEL
• It's not Christmas today.


• She tilts her head.


• KSENIA
• Of course - it is the whole...


• She waves her hands searching for words.


• KSENIA
• The whole season, the season is Christmas, it is Advent. Come.


• ABEL
• Well, when you use that tone of voice.


• KSENIA
• What?


• ABEL
• Nevermind.


• She opens the door, grabbing the bags from him and shoos him in.


• INT. TOMASZEWSKI FAMILY STORE - DAY


• She closes the door behind her and pushes Abel to the back of the store to a flight of stairs.


• They head up the stairs to first floor of the residence.


• INT. TOMASZEWSKI DINING ROOM - DAY


• They enter a large, comfortable living room/dining room area.


• MR. and MRS. TOMASZEWSKI and GRANDMA TOMSZEWSKI are seated around the dining room table.


• Mrs. Tomaszewski is a thin, open-faced woman, Mr. Tomaszewski a thick man with strong hands, and Grandma, a small woman with a face that is filled with stories.


• Ksenia drops her bags.


• KSENIA
• Czesc!


• MR. TOMASZEWSKI
• Czesc Ksenia!


• She turns to Abel.


• KSENIA
• To Jest...


• She looks at Abel quizzically.


• ABEL
• Abel, Abel Martyn.


• KSENIA
• To jest Abel. Abel, this is my Baba, my Mama, and that's Babcia. I am Ksenia, Ksenia Tomaszewski.


• She points to her father, mother, and grandmother.


• Abel waves.


• ABEL
• Dzien Dobry.


• The grandmother smiles broadly and thumps the chair next to her.


• MR. TOMASZEWSKI
• Come, come.


• They sit and in a moment, Abel has a large bowl of soup in front of him.


• He eats, savoring the warm food as the family around him laughs and talks.


• MRS. TOMASZEWSKI
• Soup with, eh...grzybowa i kapusniak.


• She motions with her hands.


• KSENIA
• Wild mushrooms and cabbage.


• ABEL
• It's really good...dobra, dobra.


• The family beams.


• MR. TOMASZEWSKI
• Dessert, sernik i makowiec!


• He grins.


• KSENIA
• Cheesecake and poppy seed rolls.


• ABEL
• Oh wow.


• MONTAGE


• They eat, moving from soup to smoked salmon, cabbage salad, and roasted chicken.


• Abel is surrounded by a swirl of polish words and food.


• END MONTAGE


• When they are finished, Mrs. Tomaszewski bustles about clearing the table and replacing the main course with the dessert.


• Abel samples the cheesecake and rolls while the family expectantly watches.


• ABEL
• Oh, wow, that's really amazing. Dobra!


• They laugh and smile, launching into their own helpings.


• Abel finishes the cheesecake and stands.


• ABEL
• Thank you very much, dziekuje. It was amazing. I'm sorry, I have to get going.


• Mr. Tomaszewski stands and claps Abel firmly on the shoulder, shaking his hand.


• Abel shakes Mrs. Tomaszewski's hand and Grandma waves him over, planting a wet kiss on his cheek - he grins at her and she flutters her eyelashes.


• KSENIA
• Babcia!


• Abel moves to the door.


• KSENIA
• Tch, I take you. Where are you staying?


• ABEL
• Ehm, right across the river, on Florianska street.


• KSENIA
• Oh, it is, as you say, the bad side of the tracks.


• ABEL
• Or river in this case. Well, the hotel price is right.


• KSENIA
• Ok, I take you.


• ABEL
• Thanks.


• KSENIA
• Baba?


• MR. TOMASZEWSKI
• Oh? Oh!


• He pulls keys from his pocket and hands them to Ksenia.


• KSENIA
• Come on.


• ABEL
• Thank you again!


• MR. TOMASZEWSKI
• Welcome, welcome.


• ABEL
• Bye, eh, do widzenia?


• MRS. TOMASZEWSKI
• Do widzenia!


• They wave and Abel and Ksenia head down the stairs.


• EXT. TOMASZEWSKI ALLEY - DAY


• Ksenia pulls a scooter onto the small alley behind the house and gets it started.


• She hands a helmet to Abel.


• ABEL
• How about you?


• KSENIA
• I'm ok. Get on.


• He obeys and they speed off, her hair blowing behind her.


• MONTAGE


• They ride through the square, exiting the old city across the Slasko Dajbrowski bridge that straddles the Vistula river.


• They cross the bridge, the skyline shimmering behind them.


• They enter the more modern part of the city, ancient cathedrals dotting the gray, communist architecture that dominates this part of the city.


• They wind through small streets until they reach Abel's hotel, a warm-looking five story building near a movie theater in the slowly gentrifying neighborhood.


• END MONTAGE


• Abel hops of the bike and hands Ksenia the helmet.


• ABEL
• Thanks - that was a pretty amazing lunch. It was nice to be around people again.


• KSENIA
• Yes, you need at least one good meal during Christmas. Otherwise...pffft.


• ABEL
• Thanks.


• KSENIA
• Ah, now you can go back to your friends in America and tell them about the, hot, hot yes? The hot girl you seduced on Christmas, no?


• Abel blushes.


• ABEL
• Ehm, no, not really my style. I will tell them about the beautiful polish girl who I nearly killed and who repaid me with a great meal.


• Ksenia laughs.


• KSENIA
• You have a merry Christmas Abel Martyn.


• ABEL
• And you too, Ksenia, Tomas, Tomaszewski.


• She smiles, pats him on the cheek and speeds off.


• He looks after her for a moment after she is gone, then smiles, shakes his head, and heads into the hotel.


• FADE TO BLACK.

353. And There Was Light - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. SKI SLOPE - EARLY MORNING


• The sun hasn't quite risen yet, the orange glow at the horizon hinting at its arrival.


• TERRANCE and ANI snowboard down the mountain, little lights strapped to their goggles illuminating the virgin snow ahead of them.


• Ani speeds up and pops a simple Ollie, her backpack bouncing against her back.


• TERRANCE
• Careful!


• ANI
• You worry too much.


• TERRANCE
• And with good reason, I don't want to be stuck here without getting a little buzzed for goodness sakes.


• They coast over a hill and the view opens up before them, a massive city ringing the far end lake below.


• It glows orange.


• As Ani and Terrance move closer, they can see that buildings across the city are on fire.


• They slow, reaching a level patch of snow.


• ANI
• Perfect - and a great view.


• TERRANCE
• Amazing...I remember coming here as a kid with my Mom, it was all forest and now, look at it.


• ANI
• Going back to forest?


• TERRANCE
• Yeah, probably.


• Ani pulls off her pack and pulls a picnic cloth out, then removes a Champagne bottle wrapped in cloth and two flutes.


• ANI
• See, just fine.


• They sit, watching the city as the fire crawls along the lakeside.


• The sun peeps over the horizon.


• A distant rumbling begins, echoing off the slopes around them.


• TERRANCE
• Here we go.


• He pours champagne into the glasses and hands one to her.


• ANI
• You wish you were going?


• TERRANCE
• Who doesn't?


• ANI
• You knew you didn't have a chance, right?


• TERRANCE
• I know.


• ANI
• Just checking.


• The rumble grows to a soft roar.


• TERRANCE
• My writing wasn't going to get me onto one of those ships - the brightest minds? Ha! 15 billion people, and they say they'll pick the brightest minds.


• ANI
• More like the best-lined pockets.


• A column of smoke rises fast in the distance, followed by more and more, until the horizon is obscured by pillars of orange smoke and flame racing into space.


• TERRANCE
• There they go.


• ANI
• To the old world.


• She raises her glass.


• Terrance raises his and theirs meets with a soft 'clink.'


• TERRANCE
• To a new world.


• Massive silos doors at the far side of the lake slide open, three miles in width and much deeper.


• There is a deafening roar and one by one, massive space craft scream into the air, escaping the bounds of earth for the first and last time.


• Dozens fill the air around the city.


• ANI
• To the best and brightest.


• TERRANCE
• So what do we do now?


• ANI
• Fight a war or two...


• TERRANCE
• Maybe we can actually change the way this place works.


• ANI
• And people will listen to us because?


• TERRANCE
• Maybe they won't, but it's worth a try.


• ANI
• Is it?


• TERRANCE
• They'll probably kill us.


• ANI
• Probably.


• Terrance finishes his champagne and stands, the vibrations rattling his snowboard.


• Ani packs the backpack and stands, slinging the backpack back onto her shoulders.


• ANI
• So?


• TERRANCE
• It's like another chance at creation - let's go get killed.


• She looks over at him.


• ANI
• Are we really serious? We're clueless - why not stay up here? They're tearing each other apart down there.


• TERRANCE
• Maybe it's our turn to have our voice heard. I don't know where we start, but I think we should.


• A ship blasts out of the ground at the base of the mountain and they begin sliding.


• Snow begins tumbling past them.


• ANI
• Oh. Guess the mountain's telling us it's time to go.


• She looks over at him and sees his face is wet with tears.


• ANI
• Ok, ok, let's do this.


• They race down the mountain, a newly-birthed avalanche at their heels.


• FADE TO BLACK.