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PAGE TWENTY-TWO
1 ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS
Full Page, full body shot of Grip from the front: Grip stands, bloody, battered, dirty, exhausted. His sword hangs loosely from one hand, it’s tip dragging on the ground. He stares blankly ahead, lost.
NARRATION
Where will I go? How will I survive? What will be my life from here? These are questions that I cannot answer.
NARRATION
I have no memory.
NARRATION
I have no home.
NARRATION
I have no direction.
NARRATION
I have not even a name.
END
See how I came full circle with the whole theme of this guy having a name? Huh, didja? I'm tired of being all excited about my little attempts at literary quality and having no one notice, so from now on I'm going to point out my own brilliance. To hell with modesty. |