- North Yorkshire...
- Last Record:
- Joined: Mar 26, 2011
INT. TONY’S HOUSE - DAY.
There’s barely enough room for one person to move around in: the rooms are crammed full of rubbish. Boxes and boxes of bizarre items such as jigsaw puzzles and ornaments, children’s toys and years-old newspapers.
INT. LIVING ROOM.
Stacks of magazines and books fill the living room as well, although unlike the rest of the junk, they actually seem to have been read/touched.
TONY, mid-thirties, sits amidst this chaos browsing through a mail order catalogue, searching for more items to add to his collection.
He looks strained, as though he is acting against his will.
INT. SIMONE’S HOUSE - MORNING.
The place is filthy. Dust at least an inch thick covers every surface. The sink is chock-full of dirty dishes. The water within the sink looks stagnant and vile.
INT. SIMONE’S BEDROOM.
SIMONE, 22, sits at her computer. She is pale and waxen, with dark circles under her eyes.
Behind her the bed is unmade and dirty clothes are strewn all over the floor.
Simone does not appear concerned about the state of her home. All of her attention is focused on the internet poker site she is logged onto.
EXT. STREET - DAY.
Tony cycles behind a bleary-eyed Simone as she heads down the street to the shops.
Simone hears the RASP of the bicycle tires behind her and turns. She recognises Tony and offers him a polite nod in greeting.
Tony returns her gesture with an equally polite but disinterested smile. He speeds up and cycles away as Simone continues her trudge to the shops.
EXT. SIMONE’S PORCH - MORNING.
Simone is smoking a cigarette looking just as she did before - pale, drawn, sleep-deprived.
Across the street a DELIVERY VAN pulls up. Simone watches with mild interest as the courier gets out with several large packages in hand.
The courier KNOCKS on the door of the recipient’s house.
The door opens: it is Tony.
With a scowl, Simone throws the butt of her cigarette to the ground, gives a vicious stomp for good measure, and goes back inside her own house.
INT. SIMONE’S LIVING ROOM.
The TV and all the furniture are gone. A pile of bills in angry red font have been chucked into a corner.
Simone surveys these ruins with dull acceptance.
FADE TO BLACK.