Both Ends Burning (Sample)
by Terry Borst and Frank De Palma
1
A PIANO begins playing softly ...
The melody is slow, bittersweet ...
FADE IN:
FLAMES IN THE NIGHT --
Floating far away. Silent. Dreamlike. Distorted.
Blackness beyond.
A woman speaks, her voice smoky and pensive.
We shall soon know her as CHASE DESMOND ...
CHASE (V.O.)
Every summer it's the same -- an
endless 4th of July.
The flames are seen through the sides of a large glass
tumbler. Ice cubes and Jack Daniels bend the image.
CHASE (V.O.)
Grandma and I used to sit on the
back porch at night and watch the
flames burn down the hills.
(beat)
Sometimes there were houses in the
way... They never stood a chance.
Her fingers dip into view and wipe some of the conden-
sation from the side of the glass.
The fingers then move slowly across her lips, applying
the moisture.
The distant blaze continues dancing through the glass.
CHASE (V.O.)
Grandma used to tell me L.A. was
quite a place ... back when it was
still a 'town.' You could barhop
and listen to Oscar Peterson in one
joint and Bud Powell in another.
All it cost you was the price of a
drink. Once she was a nightclub
owner herself. A place called 'The
Living End.' Then things happened ...
Her hand lifts the glass up out of view, to reveal that
the flames are coming from a brushfire in the parched
hills north of downtown.
©T.Borst. Last revised -- Spring 2002.