IMAGINE

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Ruby

FADE IN:

EXT. PIER - LATE AFTERNOON (PRESENT)

The deserted pier CREAKS as waves CRASH against it, and distant seagulls CROON. CAL, 31, strolls and holds hands with SOPHIA, 7. Sophia hops over cracks between the planks.

SOPHIA

Hey, Daddy? Can we have ice cream for dinner?

Cal watches his feet. His free hand is stuffed deep in the pocket of his worn jeans. Patches of dirt stain his face and flannel button-up.

CAL

'Course, sweetie. And we can have rice and broccoli for dessert.

Sophia's jacket falls off one shoulder as she scowls at Cal.

SOPHIA

No way, Jose. You know I hate broccoli for any meal.

Cal smiles to himself, and Sophia falls into step with him.

SOPHIA

Hey, Daddy?

Sophia chews her bottom lip and straightens her jacket.

CAL

Yes, Sophia?

Sophia hesitates. She looks sideways at her father.

SOPHIA

Do you cry when you miss Mommy?

Cal catches his breath. He gathers his thoughts and exhales.

CAL

Sometimes. But crying...crying won't bring her back.

Cal blinks back tears. He pulls his pocket hand free and rotates his wedding band with his thumb.

CAL (CONT'D)

My favorite thing to do is think about all the fun memories I had with your mother.

SOPHIA

Did you cry at Mommy's funeral?

Sophia and Cal reach the front of the pier that disappears into the sand. Cal kneels and meets Sophia's eyes.

CAL

Like a baby.

Sophia looks down. Waves CRASH and wind WHIPS around them.

SOPHIA

Will you cry at my funeral?

CAL

What?

SOPHIA

I hope people cry at my funeral. I want to be missed.

Cal gawks at Sophia and she stares back. The walkie-talkie in Cal's back pocket CRACKLES with static.

WALKIE-TALKIE (v.O.)

Cal, you 'bout finished lockin' up?

STATIC continues. Sophia squirms away from Cal to the edge of the pier. She squints and points underneath the pier.

SOPHIA

Look...what's that?

Sophia dashes underneath the pier. Cal rises and reaches around his back as his eyes follow Sophia. She stops in front of a wooden pillar carved into a gargoyle. A red jewel gleams over the gargoyle's heart.

CAL

Sophia, whatever you do, don't touch that...Sophia!

Sophia ignores Cal and strokes the ruby, hypnotized. The gargoyle's eyes SIZZLE red at her touch. Sophia GASPS and draws back her hand. A SUCKING noise grows louder as the ground around the pillar RUMBLES. Sophia vanishes.

CUT TO:

If I could meet one person, this is who it would be...

John Lennon

"It matters not

Who you love

Where you love

Why you love

When you love

Or how you love.

It matters only that you love."

"Love is the answer, and you know that for sure."

"I don't believe in killing, whatever the reason."

"Love is the flower you've got to let grow."

"The more I see the less I know for sure."

"If everyone demanded peace instead of another television set, then there'd be peace."

"Reality leaves a lot to the imagination."

"Everybody loves you when you're six foot in the ground."

"Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans."

"Part of me suspects that I'm a loser, and the other part of me thinks I'm God Almighty."

"Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted."

Thursday, February 10, 2011

randall

my one love.

Polaroid Pleasures

I got my first and only Polaroid camera when I was in 5th grade. It came with two packs of film that included 8 shots. Within one hour, all 16 Polaroids were taken and were lined up on my bedroom floor. After that, I think I may have bought additional film for it two or three times. For the rest of the time, it has been stored in the top of my closet, collecting dust with all the old family albums.

Lately, I see Polaroids everywhere and they are all I seek to find. The over-exposed, faded colors of the photos make everything in the image look so familiar and simple. I feel like if I were in the picture, I would fit right in and feel right at home. Everything looks better as a Polaroid, I think.

Thus, I have a NEW New Years Resolution: I resolve to create a photo album during the year of 2011 made solely of Polaroid pictures. Since it is my Senior year of college, I think that the album will be a fabulous keepsake and treasure to have. I wish I would have thought of this resolution sooner so that I wouldn't have lost a month and a half of memories. But better late than never. I can't wait to begin!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

screenplay writing prompt #6

our latest screenplay exercise is as follows: lifted from an article on screenwriting theory and identity, the story involves a man and a woman, former close friends, that reunite suddenly and enter into a spontaneous affair after having a loaded conversation at lunch. they check in to a nearby hotel for a passionate night of love-making, yet run into trouble with the intrusive desk clerk. after lying that their luggage was misplaced by an airline and will arrive later, the man spits out a detailed description of an imaginary set of luggage. seconds after locking themselves in the hotel room, a knock is heard at the door. they open it to reveal the bellhop, presenting them with the exact set of luggage that they imagined. in class we were to decide what is in the luggage. after writing down our ideas on an index card, we switched cards with our partner. we must now construct a logline based on those contents for the screenplay of this tale.

here are the contents of the luggage that i'm working with:

>a funeral urn with ashes inside

>a black and white photograph of a little boy

>an empty envelope addressed to Brooklyn Heights

>a black pair of gloves

and here are the potential loglines (don't judge...i'm very new at this):

>Two old friends in the process of exploring their suppressed love uncover the tragic truth of the mystery of a missing boy.

>After years of separation, a married man unexpectedly reconnects with a recently divorced woman, and together they accidentally stumble into the middle of a violent act of revenge driven by a heartless father tracking down the man he believes killed his son.

>A couple of long-lost friends, intoxicated by their passionate love affair, find themselves thrown into a race against time to prevent the murder of an innocent child.