Dinner & Time, Act Three

FADE IN:
INT. APARTMENT – DAY
Open to a wide living room, empty of furniture. A couple of boxes are stacked to the side, in the corner. Slow pan from window to open door, clockwise to--
THE KITCHEN
Long and cramped with polished pans and utensils under a single ceiling light [LED]; a table under a huge window unfolds next to a stove with a touchpad. A left hand presses the ON button. Hum of stove heating up.
     WIDE SHOT: MAN, he is slightly bent over.
MAN turns to bagged groceries on the counter and starts to sort them: a packet of spaghetti; a block of cheese; minced meat; two tomatoes and an onion; a stick of celery; a small bottle of spices.
MAN reaches into another plastic bag and pulls out a small jar of olives. He frowns.
               MAN
               (yelling)
          I thought we said no olives tonight?
Faint sounds from the other part of the apartment: scraping. MAN continues to sort food, throws the bag away. Shot of a flapping bin lid.
     OFFSCREEN SOUND: a yelp
               MAN#2
               (distant)
          Fucking hell!
               WOMAN
          Fourth time today already.
               MAN#2
               (still distant)
          Well I keep banging my toes on
          all this shit.
               WOMAN
          Don’t cuss.
               MAN#2
          He should just throw it away.
WOMAN appears in the kitchen doorway; she has her hands on her hips. She steps inside and leans on the table, taking the jar of olives off it.
CLOSE VIEW of polished nails.
               WOMAN
               (undertone)
          Had a craving, that’s all.
She looks straight at MAN#1. He takes the jar and slams it into the fridge, just as MAN#2 shows up at the door. He is limping.
               MAN#2
          I think I finally broke them.
MAN#2 bends and looks at his toes, then glares at MAN#1.
               MAN#2 (CONT’D)
          And it’s all your fault.
               MAN#1
          I’ll pay for the damages.
               (pause)
          Stay at the door, there’s barely
          enough room for me here.
WOMAN hops onto the table, swings her legs.
               WOMAN
          Here you go!
     WIDE SHOT: MAN#1 on the right, next to the stove; WOMAN perched on the edge of table, in the middle; MAN#2 standing next to her, pan to left. Framed in the window is the city’s skyline.
The sun is setting.
Silence.
MAN#1 starts to cup up the vegetables, as MAN#2 crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. CLOSE VIEW of WOMAN looking outside the window – her POV, busy city street: slow and heavy traffic, sweltering mist above the pavement, people going home from work.
               WOMAN
          Wanna talk about it?
               MAN#1
          Nothing to talk about.

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