Monday, 23 September 2019


People talking. A woman, pinched face, short hair harks on about a parcel. A man responds indignantly, firmly, incessantly. An older woman (Fawlty Towers, “The Anniversary”?), plump, correct states there is no such parcel, no such street. The woman becomes adamant, angry. Cut to a wide shot. The old woman lies prone on her back, her cheap tights smudged red, the flesh below captured, clawed and bloody. The pinched woman straddles her, the aggressor, shouting. Cut to mid shot. Dark window, both faces inside, looming. The pinched woman throws the elder through it. Cut to close up. The older woman now lies back inside the smashed window(?) her marvellous, extravagant neckwear, a suffusion of spotted diamonds, tinkling in the light, nearer and nearer, laughing - yes, I can hear it - in the brightness-

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