Monday, 4 July 2011
Fly's in the buttermilk, Shoo, fly, shoo
INT. A DIMLY LIT ROOM.
A light bulb flickers. A shaft of dusty light enters from an open area at one end. The light is mainly obscured by a steep pile of building rubble.
There's discarded sinks, doors, a wardrobe, several piles from remnants of MDF furniture.
A gentle hum from ancient electronics, cables snaking through the debris. Spiders, scuttling sounds from the roof.
Our hero enters.
SOUND FX. A metallic scraping. Heavy chains.
Our hero smiles.
The skip has arrived. Now he can reclaim the space.
MONTAGE. (acc. busy music)
Manual labour. Mugs of tea. A flurry of polystyrene packaging caught in the wind. Dust. Cans of beer. Bicycles falling over. A bright orange lawnmower. More tea.
Zoom onto metal container. 8 cubic yards. Full.
Hero is dialling on phone "Send another."
FADE TO WHITE.