FADE IN:
INT. BUS SHELTER - DAY
Annie, a woman in her early to mid twenties, sits quietly,
her purse sitting beside her, her cellphone in hand. She
anxiously checks the time every 30 seconds and cringes at
time's steady indifference. Another woman in mid twenties,
Martha, walks up to the bus shelter.
MARTHA
Annie?
Annie tenses up, previously in a state of total
introspection, in a world of her own. She freezes and
realizes she doesn't know this woman's name.
ANNIE
(nervously)
Hey, uh… ha ha… Hey you.
MARTHA
(knowingly)
Martha.
Martha has a particularly good memory for names and faces
and the sort of ease and charm that allows her to approach
most anyone. This creats an uneasy feeling in Annie, a sense
that she had once known Martha quite intimately, that Martha
knew Annie better than Annie knew herself.
Martha edges her way to sit next to Annie, directing her to
move her purse to her lap.
MARTHA
We never really met, but you were
at Sam's art exhibit at the
Jumping Bean Café. I remember you
were with your boyfriend.
(Martha smiles
coyly at this,
which only makes
Annie even more
uncomfortable)
It was a really tall man with
glasses.
ANNIE
(her eyes frozen
on Martha)
Uh.
MARTHA
Anyway, Sam introduced us at one
point. He said you were a writer.
Annie sighs in relief, now finally recognizing Martha.
ANNIE
(nodding)
Yes, I remember you. I'm sorry.
Martha laughs fully and melodically at Annie's embarrassment
and Annie finally realizes just how charming she is.
MARTHA
(flirtatiously)
Was that man? Is he your
boyfriend? I was just guessing.
ANNIE
(cringing)
He was, yeah. Um, not… well, we
broke up.
Annie thinks Martha might be embarrassed at this, but just
the opposite, she seems to edge closer to Annie and with
compassionate eyes asks…
MARTHA
Why?
All of time, including Martha, her charm, her compassionate
eyes and free spirit, everything is frozen around Annie. She
steps outside the bus shelter and faces the audience.
ANNIE
Everyone always asks why. People
like answers, reasons. I get that.
What was missing? What went wrong?
Well, do we really need a reason
to act? Does something have to go
horribly wrong? Why fucking not?
That's what really did it for me.
Annie walks into another point in time, into a memory. There
is a bed and lying in it is a half naked man reading a book.
She takes her top off and joins him under the covers. She
continues staring at the audience.
ANNIE
I was lying in bed with him like
this. It was a Sunday afternoon.
We had spent all morning in bed,
kissing, whispering, holding each
other. I was thinking about how
attached I was to him, how many
nights we were spending together
and suddenly I thought of breaking
up with him. What would it feel
like to break up with him? I
thought this and I realized…. I
wouldn't feel anything. I was like
Martha, asking " Why? What was
wrong with him?" And
then I thought… Well, why not?
Annie gets off the bed and puts her top back on. She walks
away from the memory.
ANNIE
And when I asked myself, "why
not?" There was no answer. Just a
deep, empty silence.
Annie looks over at Martha and smiles. She looks back at the
audience.
ANNIE
She's charming… but she wouldn't
get it. Because the moment I broke
up with him, I realized how
beautiful it all was. How fragile,
how pointless, how human love
could be. It reminds me of a boy
in fourth grade who had a crush on
me, Michael.
Annie walks over to a black stand, blending in with the
stage. On top of the stand there is a small glass vase.
ANNIE
For Valentine's Day, he gave me a
tiny glass vase with dandelions, I
was sure he had picked from the
school lawn. Nobody liked Michael.
He was obnoxious and had bad
hygiene. I didn't like him either,
but I kept the vase on my dresser.
(She picks up the
vase and observes
it momentarily)
Years later, after Michael and his
four younger brothers and sisters
had long since moved to the
suburbs, my cat jumped onto my
dresser and kicked the vase to the
floor.
(She drops the
vase; it shatters)
I didn't see it happen, but I
heard the crash from the living
room. I ran to my room and my
heart sank. The sunlight was
hitting the glass shards just
right; they were glowing like
treasure. Intact, the vase was
nothing special; the dandelions
had long since been thrown away.
It just accumulated dust over the
years. It was so much more
precious, broken.
Annie walks over to the bus stop, picking up the purse she
had left behind. She sits down and places it on her lap.
Time resumes its steady course. There is Martha, again,
vibrant, self-confident and leaning towards Annie in a way
that only she can pull off.
MARTHA
Why?
ANNIE
(tired and
frustrated)
I...
Annie laughs to stop herself from crying. At this, Martha
is, for perhaps the first time in her life, uncomfortable.
It will never be the right time and Annie will never find
the right words to explain herself.
FADE OUT.
