T H O S E

W H O

S I T

A B O V E

Written by

Sebastian Marcano-Perez

WHITE DRAFT. (09/10/2017)

BLUE DRAFT. (09/11/2017)
PINK DRAFT. (09/14/2017)
YELLOW DRAFT. (09/19/2017)
1 EXT. BENCH 1

The place with the bench is surrounded by trees, and

greenery. A street lamp joins lighting the place. HE sits in
the bench with a typewriter in lap, ready to write. A paper
sits in the back rest of the typewriter. He starts typing,
slaying away unknown, unspoken babble in the paper. He’s
concentration is broken by something bothering the corner of
his eyes.

He looks up. The Clock in the Sky. This clock doesn’t tell
time like a regular clock; thus it’s lack of hands. This
clock is filled half way up, and filling up more and more.

He looks back down and continues on his gibberish proses.

He puts the final period and compiles all the papers into a
manuscript. A hand from elsewhere reaches in and He hands
over the manuscript, the hand vanishes and comes back. This
time he takes the hand and disappears from the place with the
bench.

CUT TO:

2 INT. BLACK ROOM 2

He appears in the black room, a limbo. Nothing in sight,

everything is and everything isn’t. He doesn’t look surprised
by what this is, he’s been here before.

THOSE WHO SIT ABOVE fade from the darkness, they sit above
someplace in this limbo.

The Hand extends upwards and hands them the manuscript. They
review the pages like mad men, they pass the manuscript to
each other and they all look through the manuscript.

While they review, he looks back. Turned around, he faces the

clock, in here the clock is bigger. The clock is filling up,
it’s getting closer to the end. He looks back. Those above
stare down, point blank, at him. They fade back into the
darkness.

The manuscript float back down. He kneels down, he knows this

failure. The manuscript combusts, leaving falling ashes.

He fades out of the black room.

BACK TO:
 Yellow Rev. (09/19/17) 2.

3 EXT. BENCH 3

He is back in the place with the bench. He stares with

disappointment and anger at the typewriter and tries to throw
it, but it reappears in his lap. He tries to scream but it’s
inaudible.

He looks up at the clock, it keeps filling. A spark ignites.

A new spark has fueled a flame in him. He isn’t writing

nonsense, he’s writing actual words. He keeps writing,
paragraph after paragraph.

His time is up. The clock in the sky is all full; the glow
diminishes and the clock fades out. His typewriter
disappears, his never-ended manuscript disappears. His time
is up; he disappears.

CUT TO:

4 INT. BLACK ROOM 4

The manuscript appears in the black room.

A light shines on the manuscript, but without him they are

worthless, the light fades and takes the manuscript with it.

BACK TO:

5 EXT. THE BENCH 5

There is a moment of silence.

A new owner pops into the bench. No knowledge of what has

happened there before, about the many previous owners’
failures and success. There has been many fires in this
benches before, but they are forgotten as their creator fades
from existence. He is about to learn the rules of this game.

THE END.