Scene One

INT: Zoo café- end of day. Slightly dark and gloomy

[Shannon (aged 13) sits, legs crossed, facing Dadrian (age 40) They sit on a damp picnic bench, either side of each other. Shannon is sitting near the open edge, while Dadrian sits directly in the middle of the bench with his legs swung ajar, both feet placed either side of Shannon.  Children can be heard singing the chorus of songs like “Yellow Submarine” and “Wheels on the Bus” in discord off screen. A pack of six cupcakes in a pristine white case are placed directly in-between them both.]

Dadrian- Thanks for coming to meet me Shannon, it was very sweet of you. (No teeth smile and looking directly at Shannon)

Shannon- (Laughing through her breath and staring straight at the cupcakes) I’m just glad to finally meet you, Mr Purth.

[Dadrian lightly places his finger underneath Shannon’s chin, raising her head and eye level straight towards his.]

Dadrian- Shannon, please look at me. We have been chatting for ages over the past couple of weeks and I must say, it’s so good to at last see your face.

[Shannon stays silent. She has slowly lowered her gaze to Dadrian’s chest, averting eye contact]

Dadrian- [noticing Shannon is not going to say anything] I love your shirt [Rubs her sleeve and slightly tugs it] Where did you get it?

Shannon- Primark

Dadrian- Well it looks very pretty on you sweetie. Have you tried rolling up your sleeves

Shannon- [Blushing for a couple of seconds while fidgeting in her chair] Ok [Rolls up sleeves]

Dadrian- There you go...  The cupcakes look nice don’t they? Very creamy.

Shannon- You’re right

Dadrian- I had them specially made you know, for our little meet up, down at the bakery on my street.

[Shannon reaches for a cupcakes but before she touches it, Dadrian lightly places his hand on hers, stopping her. Then holds one up to her mouth and beckons for her to eat it from the palm on his hand. Shannon awkwardly diverts her mouth but, with his other hand, Dadrian softly moves her head back and Shannon takes a slow bite]

Dadrian- Tasty.

Shannon- You’re right.

Close Encounters (draft)

"JUST KEEP FUCKIN' DRIVING!" screams Ron.

Streaks of pain shoot up my right foot. I've been forcing it down on the acceleration pedal as hard as I can for hours. I squint through the sweltering desert sun, which bounces off the roof of my red Chevrolet. I power forward.

In the back seat, they lie motionless against each other. We had placed one of them middle, but she's wriggled out and is now draped over the left seat with her ass in the air and face pressed against a floor filled with cigarette butts, gravel and condoms.

"Ron! Move her up, she's slouching!"

Ron, quickly throws his cigar out the window, scrambles into the back seat and adjusts her so she's leaning against the edge of the car; Her head hanging out the window like a dog.

One day earlier

"D'ya think we'll get there with the money we have?"

A long pause greets me, the sound of thinking. We're at a gas station  just on the outskirts of Houston, Texas. Just spent the last of our money on filling up the tank.

"Well lets assess the situation Mark,"says Ron in between drags of his cigar. Globules of milky sweat, no doubt filled with nicotine, hang off his forehead "We've got twenty dollars to our name. Ten of that needs to go on general living supplies... ya know, salad, spirits and cigarettes"

We're on our way to Burning Man. I've wanted to go ever since I was eighteen, but could never find a way to get there. Twenty something years later I find a brochure, one of them cheesy, bright yellow, holiday camp ones. You know, the ones with bright stars around them, like the people that made it think the only way to grab peoples attention is through sweets and florescent colors. Like we're flies. Anyway, on it is a fire truck red Chevvy for half the price you'd usually get them. Now, I've grown up around some nice cars, Bentley's, Mercedes, all that rich people shit, but never even seen a Chevrolet in the flesh. So I sell my house and spend the money on the car and with the left overs, I spend on filling up the trunk for me and my buddy Ron. Ron is around the same age as me. A black pony tail, made up of fringe and the stringy hairs from the back of his head, sticks out from his trucker cap. you'll always catch Ron wearing jet black sun glasses and camo trousers. I say to him sometimes "Ron? What you wearing them woodland camo trousers for in the middle of the mall?" And every time he stares into the distance and says: "Shut the fuck up Mark"

"Our tank will get us as far as Austin, but after that we're screwed," Ron reminds me while tapping the map.

"Well we could sell something from the trunk" I point towards a group of teenagers loitering on their bikes around the other side of the gas station. "They look like they got some spare change"

"Yeah man, but don't we wanna save it for when we get there?" Ron is always jittery about opening the trunk.

"I suppose man, I suppose"

We don't talk when driving; we recharge. Every hour, me and Ron will switch and let the other sleep. I've been driving for about an hour and a half, listening to some old koot talking about water filtration.

Every time I hit a bump in the road, the speakers stop working. Until five minutes, I hit another bump, and they start spitting out more noise. Sometimes, hitting a bump at the right angle will cause the radio to become jittery. Then, I can't tell if it's music or someone talking

"Well you see now, Jose, you gotta make sure you got your water flowing through the green pipe, not the red, otherwise you'll be getting the sewage water in your mug of tea!"

Last sign we past said two miles until the next town, but that was about an hour ago and i'm starting to loose hope in getting to Austin. Being able to see the horizon, but not feeling like you're getting any closer to it drives you insane. Like you're on a treadmill.

"To hook up the green pipe to your filtration system, you gotta make sure you have the right spanner. Now, my favorite span-" Thunk. I relish the silence.

The gas meter slowly vibrates towards the 'E'. Only a matter of time before we're stranded in the desert.

"Ron" I say "Ron... wake up"

Looking around at the desert, you'd think that the air that passes between my middle aged creases would be warm and cleansing, not the case, it's biting. I've been dealing with it since Ohio. The convertible roof top got stuck after Ron spilled a slushee on the switch which controls it, leaving us attacked by the sharp wind twenty four hours a day.

"huh, whuh" Ron shoots up in his seat, ready for danger.

"Ron mate, can you take your shift?"

Roaring through a yawn, Ron nods.

"Mark.... Mark ya koot!"

Let me sleep.

"Mark take a look at this!"

You know how you can't track time when you sleep? But you can still tell how long you've been sleeping by how light you feel when you wake up? My body feels like a ton of bricks. As I open my eyes, I realize I must have been sleeping for at least three hours as the sun is nearly down.

"What?" My voice feels squelchy. Mucus and saliva must have gathered at the back of my throat because of my sleeping position.

Ron looks excited, jumping up and down like a loony tunes character on a strong dose of Ritalin. His pony tail smacks his sweaty back, throwing up a light film of warm sweat into my face.

I wipe the sprinkling of sweat off "What Ron, What is it?"

"Look" Ron points down the road. In the distance, by the side of the road, a huddle of fleshy tones shimmer. A group of people, holding a bright purple sign and waving it above them. We're too far away to make out what it says, but from what I can tell they really want us to stop.

"So what you think?" asks Ron "Shall we pick them up?"

I let out a long sigh "I just want to get to burning man, maaan"

"Awww come on" Ron whines, like a toddler who has been refused a trip to the zoo. "Come on man! we're almost out of money so we could charge them, and besides... they could be girls"

He's right, we have no more money. We won't be able to get the whole way there in the state we're in.

"They could be anyone! Think about the trunk, man."

"Stop being such a fucking (scaredey cat)!" Ron pulls the joystick towards him, aggressively switching down a gear. I can't change his mind now.

As we draw closer I get a better look at our soon to be companions. From the distance we are at now, we can see lots of exposed flesh, and camping equipment.

"We are in for a treat" Ron says realizing they are all girls.

Three of them, all dressed in tank tops and tight denim shorts, hop around trying to get our attention. Apart from one, who bends over tying her shoelace.

"Well what can we do for you young ladies?" asks Ron as he slowly pulls the car to the side of the road next to them, lurching forward with a cunning smile. With his sunglasses and wrinkly skin, Ron looks like one creepy mother fucker.

The one on the far right skips up to the side of the car, lowering herself just enough for us to be eye level with her breasts. Despite the sweaty desert weather, her blonde hair shines with a freshly washed quality and an ocean glimmer. "Oh thank the lord, we've been here for hours!" Exclaims her high pitched voice

"No problem my dear, happy to help" smiles Ron.

The second girl slides up against her, knocking their boobs together like a newtons cradle. This one also has fresh blonde hair. The only difference between them is this one has braces

"I'm Madison!"

"Hi! And I'm Stacey!" Their voices squeak.

 Ron sits in silence, tracing their curves with his eyes. His attention falls to the last girl, bending over, still tying her shoe. A cherry red thong stretching along her waist above her tight denim shorts.

"You're the first car to pass for hours. We had no idea what to do!"

"It's no problem" replies Ron, still staring at the third girl.

"That's Jacky" Madison exclaims "Hey Jacky, come meet the guys!"

I saw Ron reaction before I saw her face. It was as if she was a malfunctioned clone of the other two. Same clothes, same physique, yet with a giant slug of an eyebrow across her face and acne so vastly spread across her cheeks it was like she had sunburn.

"Hey boys" Her voice was more masculine than the other girls, and mine. As she spoke, I noticed her tongue's slightly too big for her mouth, making her spit slightly with every consonant.

"Oh, h-hey" Stammers Ron, averting his eyes from this monstrosity. He looks at me for help.

I rip my eyes away from Jacky and notice they have lots of camping equipment around their feet, so I get out to offer my help

"HEY, DON'T GO IN THERE!"

Jacky has the handle for the trunk halfway turned.

"Go on, shoo!" Ron demands while flailing his arms in the air and pushing Jacky away like a mange cat.

"Where are we meant to put our bags then?"

"Anywhere but the back" Ron puts bluntly.

I see that Jacky is irked by this, but instead of complaining she just hops into the backseat next to her friends.

Before I can sit back down, Rob grabs me by the arm.

"Listen mate, I know it is my turn to drive, but can you please just take the wheel and let me chat to them?"

He retreats his lips into his mouth and lowers his head, pleading with me like a kitten. If he'd had taken his sunglasses off and shown me some wide saucepan eyes I'd have melted.

"Fine!"

The sun is dipping below the distant sandy rocks. The once yellow sand is slowly fading into a more sickly green.

Ron looms over the hot leather seats, casting a shadow over Stacey who sits in the middle "So where you girls headin'?"

"We need to get back to Pickerninny, that's where our college bus is!"

"Oh you're in college!" he turns to me in excitement. His breath becomes erratic. "Well then what you doing all the way out here?"

"They let us have a day of sight seeing" giggles emit from the girls "So we hitch hiked out to see the canyons!"

Ron accompanies the giggles "And you didn't think you'd have to get back?"

This is painful. I lock my eyes on the road, looking for something to distract me from their annoying voices. The painted tracks wiz underneath. The more we drive, the grayer they get.

"It's getting pretty dark girls" Ron says without averting his attention "I see you've got tents. why don't we stop for the night?"

 A fact many people don't know about the desert is that it gets bloody cold at night. Ron insisted I gather some firewood for us, to keep us toasty. I don't see him collecting firewood. Who needs a fire anyway, the alcohol's warming us up just fine. Despite only having dry and dusty wood, the fire seemed to light pretty well. It may have been my boy scout skills, or the fact that Ron smashed a bottle of rum into the fire after losing patience with me, causing a long flame to reach into the sky and near scorch the girls prized eyebrows off.  I lost track of Madison and Jacky about a bottle ago. But Ron seems to be looking after Stacey just fine, feeding her vodka shots every other minute. Looking over the prairie, Jacky and Madison leap and bound to the music. The girls captured the radio before we stopped, putting in CD's from their backpack which are 'totally awesome'. Ever since then we've had jack shit of good music, just annoying synths and lyrics about breaking up with your boyfriend. Obviously we had to keep it on because of Ron's game plan. It's alright though, we'll be at burning man soon, listening to some real music, non of this teen pop crap.

"Yoooou don't know you're beautiful. Oooh Aaah Oooh!" Jacky screams from across the desert landscape in her discordant voice.

"Your voice is so amazing Jacky!"

God how did I end up here.

"Come dance with us!" You can never tell with some drunk girls, whether they are crying or just talking too loud. Despite Madison being a meter away from me, she shouts as if i'm halfway across the desert.

I begrudgingly accept.

"Guys i'm thirsty" Complains Jacky.

I quickly lost myself in movement, swaying from left and right, following Madison's hips. I could have danced forever, if it wasn't for the sound of the trunk opening. Me and Ron have developed a sixth sense for it. As soon as I heard the clunk of the latch I sobered up and span around to see Jacky drinking from a crinkled plastic bottle.

"Jacky no!"

It hit her instantly. Her face wrinkled up as it received the taste.

"uuhhh" no emotion was in her voice. It was like she had turned into a zombie. Wide eyes dart back and forth, sometimes flicking behind her eyelids.

"Ron.... Oh god damn Ron come quick!"

"Oh god no.... The acid!"

She stumbles around in circles, caressing every inch of her body, clawing at her flesh. Her hands are so tense the bones elevate from beneath them.

"You stupid bitch!" Screams Ron "Do you know how much money you just drank!"

Of course she didn't answer. I survey the bottle on the ground. It's completely empty.

"Holy shit Ron that must have been about 30 hits worth, what do we do? What do we do!!"

Without hesitation, Ron swings round and sucker punches Madison right in the face. Crunching her nose and plastering it into her chin; knocking her out cold.

"Whu- what are you doing!?"

"Get Stacey" Ron demands.

"Oh god Ron..."

"Get, Stacey!"

Luckily, Ron didn't expect me do anything to her, she's already led out flat on the ground, mouth agape and arms outstretched from all the shots.

Ron quickly reaches into their pockets, pulling out their flip up phones. He quickly snaps them phones in half, tossing them into the desert. "For fuck sake Pete, get Stacey!!"

"I just want to get to burning man Ron..."

"We're still going" Ron says as he slumps Stacey in the back seat against Jacky. Madison leans over them both, trickling blood over their hair. Jacky jitters around, screaming and spreading the blood all over the seats.

"Come on! Drive!"

   

Librarianies

One shelf, stretching down a mile long hallway. The carpets are a mundane brown. Spotless windows follow the shelf all the way down, casting a serene light across all the multi-coloured books. There are no panels on the windows and they don’t seem to be attached to either end of the hallway. An oak ladder is attached to the top of the shelf and painted bright red like the roof of a plastic doll’s house. You can move the ladder to any part of the shelf with the kick of your leg, rolling yourself effortlessly from one end of the hallway to the other. The top of the shelf is chipped and jagged from the ladder being pushed. There are no doors out of my library; it’s on the top floor of a launderette so the faint swishing of washing machines can be heard below.  The walls at the end of the hallway are an icy white, completely bare of colour apart from a laminated a4 piece of paper at each end that states ‘Library’. The shelf is divided equally into four categories, each with its own colour. There’s section one: Fun. This is a murky green. Section two: Interesting, which is coloured a dark ocean blue. Section three is a tie-dye pattern of the previous two sections colours and is titled ‘Smart’. Section four doesn’t have a title, or a colour. It’s just the balsa wood of the shelf and is void of books.  Each category is comprised of books that are recommended and purchased by the laundrette workers downstairs who are foundation arts course graduates.