This is something I wrote when in a certain mood after breaking up with my partner recently. I may find an artist for it one day who I can pay for it. But if not, you lovely people get to read a script.
Script by Reece Morris-Jones
Single page. Shaped so it has 4 square panels, with the fifth running as a rectangle underneath them all.
Opening panel – we come across a man with his back to us. We can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but he’s in a kitchen lit well by natural light and has his hands in the sink, a few bits of washing up on a rack on his right hand side drying. So we can assume he’s doing the washing up.
‘People say I’m doing remarkably well. That considering everything, I’m keeping it together’.
Now we take a shot from an closer angle as if we are just standing to the side of the man looking into the bowl – we can clearly see the sink and it’s contents, the mans arms and hands as they wash up crockery.
‘And they’re right. What we had was great, but it’s over now. I have to move on. Accept it.’
Now we cut closer, again at an angle. We have a view of the mans hands and arms and the sink with the water line clearly defined – we can see all that’s left is some cutlery -a few knives and forks.
‘and most of the time that lie works. But it’s the small things’
Same shot but this time the arms and hands are gone. All we have is the bowl and the water. Two ripples echo out across the water’s surface, equidistant.
‘Like how you hated it that I always did the cutlery first…’
We zoom out completely. Now we have a shot of the man, his head in his hands leaning on the edge of the sink, crying. We cannot see anything but the back on his body. We’ve zoomed out so he looks small in the kitchen. Lonely.