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347. Stranded - Leslie
- FADE IN:
- ALI sits on one of the benches that rings the square, her well-traveled backpack, sitting next to her.
- The backpack, covered with patches and a small Union Jack, sits taller than her.
- Her eyes are ringed with a light layer of eye-liner, just enough to attract attention without being overplayed.
- She looks out over the cobblestones of the square, her eye's half-empty - there is a distance in her gaze.
- Tourists criss-cross the square snapping pictures and talking loudly and those to whom the square is a piece of national heritage avoid the interlopers with no small amount of condescension.
- Ali reaches around her neck and yanks at a cloth strap wrapped around her neck.
- With a little effort, she pulls a small pouch out from it's hiding place under her shirt and opens it.
- She pulls a one-way ticket stub from New York to London from the pouch, then her American passport, worn and beaten from hard use.
- She feels around the pouch, her fingers searching earnestly.
- All she discovers are a few Euro coins.
- She looks one more time, but the result is no different.
- A MAN IN A COWBOY HAT walks past, devouring a pack of large french fries he's bought from the McDonald's whose garish sign mars the ancient square.
- Ali stares after him, eyes fixed the food.
- She digs into her pockets, searching for more, but they are empty, save for a pen and some scraps of paper.
- She sits back, exhaling hard.
- Biting her lip, Ali looks around, the light of the fading sun playing with her hair.
- A group of tourists approaches and she looks at them, then away, then at them again.
- They come closer.
- She flinches, then closes her eyes for a moment.
- Ali opens her eyes and holds her hand out.
- ALI
- Hey guys, could you just spare a little change?
- They pass, some tossing looks of pity back at her, and she slumps.
- Another tourist approaches, she braces, then holds her hand out again.
- FADE TO BLACK.
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