Coward is copyrighted by the author and is not to be used or modified without permission. All rights reserved.
EXT. CITY – STREET – SUNSET
A woman in fast food outfit assaults her way thru the thick evening crowd. She is remarkable in her ordinariness for the twenty-something battering ram is summarily ignored by the pedestrians she nearly tramples in her lateness. The nametag on her chest, with an obligatory smiley face, announces her to one and all as Dorine.
Just as she plows into a ROBED STRANGER, who everyone gives a wide berth to, the time stops. But not for Dorine and the ROBED STRANGER, whom she bounces off and lands on her behind.
ROBED STRANGER, looking down on Dorine, softly
Tic tock, Dorine broke the clock. Accident, fate, happenstance or not - it's time.
Dorine, jumping to her feet and looking around, worried
Where am I?
ROBED STRANGER, serene
Ours is a world split into a light and dark existence. Both are real but not in the same instance. Both flow into each other yet are separate. I walk them. Your reality ends with the setting of the sun – it can only exist in the light. The memories are the mirror of the other.
Dorine walks around and touches STATIC PEDESTRIANS, who remain frozen and unmoving despite her best efforts.
Dorine, turning to ROBED STRANGER, frowning
I don't understand.
ROBED STRANGER, pointing at stillness around them, calmly and patiently
In this split, single moment of time between day and night, the realities sync and then the night one starts. Same thing happens in the morning. There is no night for light people and day for night ones.
Dorine, advancing on ROBED STRANGER, unhappy
Who did this and why? You? What do you mean: it is time?!
When the light walks in the dark, the end is upon us.
Dorine, loudly, scared
No, no, no! This is wrong! Take me back!
INT. APARTMENT – DORINE'S BEDROOM - SUNRISE
The first rays burst into the tiny cubicle of a room and alight on Dorine's face. Her eyes fly open at the warm caress; her body follows suit as she springs up into a sitting position.
Dorine, raising her right hand and touching her face, wondering
Am I real?
Unsure after feeling her features, Dorine throws the covers aside. Clad only in her nightie, she rushes to the window. She pushes it open and the sounds of early morning float in and fill the indoor air. Everything appears and sounds normal.
Dorine, speaking to the world, uneasy and lost
Is this real?
There is no answer; the world around her just is.
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