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This is one of my venues for therapy. I live too much in my head so I have strong feelings about everything and nothing. So this is my venting place.

Hope you find it entertaining.

Monday, June 26, 2006

I've started to think of "Lisa" again.

I had thought that she was on the backburner of my mind but she keeps moving to the front.

I have been debating whether or not to post her picture here but, for now, I must respect the anonymity that I have created on this blog (for people who do not have blogs).

If I ever get up the courage to call her (and she actually picks up) then I'll ask her.

I'll also ask her to send me that letter that I've previously mentioned.

But until then...

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Well, here is a three page treatment for a short film I submitted to NYU Film School in 1999 (as part of my application).

Enjoy.

A man stands at a deserted street corner. The traffic light changes from green to red to yellow and back to green again. The man paces nervously back and forth but he never leaves the corner. He looks at his watch just to have something to do. Suddenly, the man jerks his head up and looks down the street.

A Ford Taurus SL is driving up the street. The man steps back into the shadows of an alley way between the buildings. He looks at the approaching Ford then up to the traffic light. The light is green. The man looks worriedly back towards the Ford. He watches as it comes closer, then looks back up to the traffic light. It is still green but the crosswalk signal begins flashing "don't walk."

The man looks at the Ford again. It has just reached the end of his block. He looks back at the traffic light which is still green. He looks back at the Ford which is closer. He then looks back to the traffic light which is still green. The man looks at the crosswalk signal which stops flashing. It now reads "don't walk." The man watches relieved as the traffic light changes from green to yellow to finally, red. The Ford comes to a stop.

The man reaches into his right hand pocket and removes a revolver. It would look like a toy gun if the man didn't open the cylinder to check that it was loaded. The man stuffs the gun back into his right hand pocket and slowly approaches the Ford.

As the man gets closer to the Ford, he slows down. Apprehension and fear take over. The man reaches into his right hand pocket but doesn't remove his revolver. He now stands next to the Ford. The man watches the driver searching for something in her purse. The driver hasn't noticed the man standing outside her car yet.

The man steps closer towards the car door with his left arm out stretched. He suddenly stops moving. He sees his reflection in the car's window. The man stares at it for a few seconds. He is still staring at it as he slowly backs away from the Ford. Finally he turns and walks back towards the alley.

As the man reaches the alley he turns around to see the Ford pull away. The man is pissed at himself. He kicks garbage cans. He throws a beer bottle, punches the wall, and finally leans against the wall. He slowly slides down the wall to sit on the ground.

The man sits there for a moment. He then reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket removing his wallet. He reaches into the wallet and removes a picture. It is a picture of an infant child. Tears begin to well in the man's eyes as he looks at the picture. He runs his hand over the picture in a way that only a parent can. The man stares at the picture as he begins to cry.

A BMW Convertible stops at the traffic light. The man looks up and sees the BMW. He turns back and looks at the picture for a moment. He then kisses the picture, places it back in his wallet, and puts the wallet away. The man stands up from the ground, places his right hand in the pocket of his jacket, and pulls out his revolver.

Determination has replaced the tears in the man's eyes. He emerges from the shadows of the alley. The Man tightens his grip on the revolver as he approaches the BMW. He raises the revolver and swings downward shattering the window of the BMW. The man reaches into the BMW to unlock the door but freezes. His perception of time slows down.

A silver forty-five emerges form the shattered BMW's window. The man backs away from the car. The forty-five fires once. Shock, surprise, anger, and fear replace each other on the man's face. He slowly falls to the ground clutching his chest. The BMW peels out. The man is left in the street coughing up blood. The man stops moving. He is just lying there staring off into space as his chest rises and falls. His chest does this only once as the man stops breathing.

The End.

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