Time
London — Evening 1942.
The zooming focus towards a murky puddle. The outer rim of the dirt pocket has been stomped by a boot print. Inside, sparks and crackles from the night sky, begins to light up in its murky sludge. All of a sudden—SPLASH! BOOM! A soldier’s boot plunges inside. The street’s in pure chaos. Civilians run for their lives as the dark skies light up with ear-piercing BANGS! Enemy fighter planes fly low, virtually trimming wheat with their propellers in the farmers’ fields. Families lug their belongings and little loved ones. An infant girl sobs alone on the sidewalk, covered in dried crusted dirt.
An American soldier, darts around the corner. Walter Colman, the man appears to be in his mid-twenties, wholesome and lean. His chiseled facial features are blended with muck and sweat. He notices three women in the fetal position covering their ears.
“Hey! You need to get out of here. Run, run to a safe position!” he assists each of them to their feet. Without further ado, the women speed off as if they’re participating in a 100-meter dash. Explosions BURST beside the road. Daggers of glass, shatter onto the cratered filled street. Walter sprints past an infant girl. He abruptly stops, lifting her up in his arms. They then weave in and out of the frantic people. He makes a sharp right turn while another soldier speeds into them. They both adjust, about to scrap! They then come to realize, they know each other.
“Walter! It’s good to see you.”
“James!” Walter scopes the area. “The road is blocked. This way!” They take off down the street.
James’s back reads (Texas, USA). Walter supports (Seattle, USA). As they sprint side by side, James shouts at people hanging out from their windows.
“Get back inside, take cover!” In a spilt second, BOOM! The guys glance behind as one of the apartments was HIT. Walter and James reverse, and look back inside. A woman lies down on the ground up against a wall, pleading for her life. A piece of thick lumber is placed heavily on her leg.
Walter decides quickly, handing over the little girl to James.
“Take her.” James hesitates…
“Walter, no, the woman’s a goner!” He hands over the distraught child.
“Take her! I’ll meet you back at the base.” They lock eyes. James can’t help but think he may not see Walter again…James then sprints with the sobbing girl.
Walter steps inside, shoving over the sporadic rubble. He finally arrives to the woman. She’s currently in an eye-bulging state of shock. He attempts to move her zig zag bone shattered leg… He attempts to lift the tree trunk beam with his teeth clench. Dirt and sweat trickle down his forehead. The woman then releases a scream more ear-piercing than the enemy’s bombshells…
“Sir, please! Help me sir!” The weakened roof collapses, blocking the entrance. Walter takes notice in terror. The woman clenches to his pant leg, while she yanks franticly. He turns back, towards her. Walter staring intently into her foggy eyes.
“Sir, Please! Sir!” Boom—
FLASH!
Present Day — Seattle, USA.
A woman reading a romance novel, is seated on a crowded city bus.
“Sir? Excuse me sir?” In the condensed corner of the corroded bus, rests an old man who begins to wake from his slumber.
“Would you like to sit?” He shoots her a disgusted look, sickened by her gracious gesture. The young woman is perplexed and proceeds back to reading her book. The elderly man’s eyes wander as he gazes out the water-stained window. He appears to be in his late eighties, brittle, senior citizen. He’s dressed in a moth bitten sanctuary of a suit. Age marks clutter his leather-like face, and hands. He slips into a blank stare, deep in thought. His parched, weathered face appears to be lived in for over a hundred years…
The Seattle city bus arrives at its neighborhood stop. The exhaust spits as it departs, revealing the old man gripping his grocery bags on the sidewalk. He begins to carry his future meals across the street, slowly. Vehicles stop quickly as his Velcro running shoes cruise on auto pilot. After slogging to his building’s front steps, he gazes up the daunting steep stairway… he then carefully begins the long journey ahead. Every step is carefully orchestrated. He analyses the amount of strength he needs to muster for each stair, resulting in a timely process.
As he finally arrives to the top, a bag full of fruit, slips out of his elderly hands. They tumble and roll down the never-ending walkway, soaring through the air. Our eyes catch one of the bright oranges in mid-flight, rotating in slow motion.
A voice enters…
“Have you ever wondered, what it would be like, to be yourself again. Young, healthy… nothing but time?” Our eyes mesmerized against the zoomed-in dimples of the orange. It begins to slowly rotate faster and faster. The speed increases…WHACK! It collides with another air bourn circler fruit. They all disperse onto the concrete street. The wheels of passing traffic crushing most of them as they steer by. Pedestrians minding their own business, keep their course on the sidewalk. A few pieces of salvaged fruit remain on the street. The old man, in disbelief, sucks in his deepest breath. He then clenches the guard rail, revealing his brownish, yellow tinted finger nails. He begins to step down the first of many steep steps…
