Golden |
Modern day October. Bright evening in mid-east USA - The crowded avenue of an average-size city – In the afternoon, when the world appears smaller
and we catch the first cold smell of gasoline, we notice the lights shine different and corners and faces turn to gold. AVENUE Sounds of honking and people walking, talking, over black. Fade in. Still view of a long and crowded avenue, in the strange and thrilling gleam of the evening, where the sidewalks are filled with rushed dwellers and the road runs with cars and buses driving at a steady pace. A well-dressed man stops to tuck his scarf in his leather jacket and moves on. An old city bus drives by. On the other side of the avenue, the back of the bus shrinks in the distance and melts into the pastel crown of the setting sun - the sound of street life takes over. Fade out. BUS INTERIOR The bus on the move, from inside. Passengers of all ages seen in the back. An elegant old lady dressed in white stands up to get out. The driver in his 60’s, thick skinned, hair of average length, glasses on, holding the wheel with particular ease, which reminds only of the odd assurance some men have in strange streets, like they’ve seen it all before. On his right, a small plump man in his 40’s, and his strong closed expression. He wears a fluorescent orange vest. He watches the road in front of him, thoughts drawing on his face. Driver Man I’m telling you. Scary as hell. Security Was he on the same line as you? Driver Yeah, O-1. There is always noise in the back. The bus stops, a few people get in. A young man stays near the front door, at the plump man’s reach. Driver I’m telling you. Gets you thinking, what happened to that driver. Makes you realize there’re some things you can do and some things you can’t. And we still have no news about that beggar. Security Still no news?! Driver I do kind of understand why he did that though. Those situations aren’t always easy. But if you don’t like the smell, just spray on some Chanel! The two men start laughing and repeating “Chanel” with a forced French accent. The bus stops again, some people get out. Driver Once I had a bum who didn’t want to move, so I slammed on the brakes to wake him. He fell straight forward. Then the ambulance came, the medics ... A real mess. Security Damn ... The bus stops abruptly at a red light. Driver So yeah, it’s sad for that driver! Imagine if it would happen to me! He’d been working with us for 15 years, I’m around 24 ... Driver We got to be careful with everything nowadays! Security (addressing the young man at the front door) Hey, you, don’t stay there! Fade out. COFFEE PLACE Coffee place from outside - The large window pane takes a golden tint against the otherwise silvery sidewalk and curb. The elegant old lady walks down the avenue. Her hair perfect white, so is her dress. She walks slowly, familiar with the street she’s on. She stops at a door, contemplative, and enters the coffee place. Coffee place from inside – A clean man in his 30’s at a wooden table. He reads Nietzsche’s “Aphorisms on Love and Hate”. His silky hair half long and dark black, his mug empty. The lady sits down next to him with a coffee. Lady in white
You’ve really nice hair! He turns to her and answers the compliment with no surprise, without the usual shyness from the disconcerting sound of flattery. His eyes answer first, taunting, followed by the mechanical charisma of his smile. Silky hair man Thanks. The lady sips her coffee, the man returns to his book. Lady in white (after some time) Why would people pay so much for a coffee which has been intentionally burnt? Silky hair man I like this coffee, it takes time to cool down. I have to enjoy it sip by sip, it makes me stay here longer. Lady in white
Hmm ... Lady in white I come here often, close to nighttime. I like watching the shapes from the moving headlights through the window. Helps me dream. Silky hair man What do you dream of? Lady in white Most of the time ... of cold houses lost among green hills, and people leaving to these secret places. Lady in white I knew someone who looked like you. He’s Swedish, but lived in the south of France as a kid. It showed in his eyes. He had this malicious stare, so I called them snake eyes. I think he liked the name. It’s something French, he used to always tell me. That stare never left him, even after all these years. Silky hair man Oh. The man slowly dives back into his book. Fade out. APARTMENT Beaten studio apartment on 3rd floor. Waves of city chatter between sad evening silences. A girl at the window, smoking a cigarette and watching the city buses down on the avenue. Her head tilted to the left, allowing her long brown hair to brush the windowsill. A boy at arm’s reach, lying on a messed-up bed, surrounded by furniture, papers and glass bottles, and the scent of tobacco settling in the clothes and sheets. Boy
You can go if you want. Girl (still staring outside) Yeah right. Like you would be okay with that. If I go, then what? Boy Well, come back in bed with me. Girl ... Boy You’re cold. Girl I’m okay. Boy I mean you’re a cold person. Boy (looking at her arm) Your skin always glows at this time of day. Almost like ... Girl I know. Fade out. APARTMENT Girl still at window, facing the boy. The boy holds a waiter notepad and reads the notes out loud. They both enjoy themselves. Boy “I wonder what you do when I’m not around.” Girl (laughing) No. Boy “You don’t like real life.” Girl No. Boy “You’ll never find better than me.” Girl Hmm hmm. Boy “I imagined how I would react if you died.” Girl No. Boy “You don’t deserve me.” Girl reaches for the notepad, throws it out the window. She turns around slowly towards the boy. Boy “I’m still here.” Fade out. END |