Okay, here’s the story I wrote for the 2nd assignment that won 1st place, even though i liked the complexity of the first piece better.<\/p>\n
genre:<\/strong> fantasy No Man’s Land<\/strong><\/p>\n logline: <\/strong>A young waiter drifting through life meets a mysterious stranger in the middle of the night.<\/p>\n INT. DINER – NIGHT<\/p>\n A stout, exhausted COOK tosses two plates of burgers with A bell DINGS.<\/p>\n Rahul returns and picks up more food.<\/p>\n TIME SPEEDS UP. Hours fly by as CUSTOMERS come and go, RAHUL RAHUL (V.O.) The crowds thin as the hours pass. When the clocks hands Rahul takes out his notepad and doodles, drawing the man. His The man is black with smooth skin, a slight frame, wearing a RAHUL DEE RAHUL DEE Rahul returns to his station–pours the coffee just as the RAHUL DEE He flips one face up so that Rahul can see it but he can\u2019t.<\/p>\n DEE Rahul is looking at the 6 of Hearts.<\/p>\n RAHUL Dee\u2019s face breaks into a devilish grin.<\/p>\n DEE RAHUL DEE RAHUL Dee points to the guy at the counter wolfing down his chicken DEE RAHUL DEE He points at the cook half hanging out the back door of the DEE RAHUL DEE RAHUL Dee laughs. His teeth are perfect and straight. He leans in DEE Rahul looks flustered.<\/p>\n RAHUL Dee points at Rahul\u2019s nametag. Rahul self-consciously covers it with his hand.<\/p>\n DEE RAHUL DEE Rahul stares hard at Dee.<\/p>\n RAHUL DEE RAHUL DEE RAHUL He pauses, doesn\u2019t know the guy\u2019s name. Dee smiles broadly, DEE Rahul turns, rolling his eyes.<\/p>\n RAHUL Rahul goes back to the cash register. He stares at Dee who\u2019s COOK RAHUL Suddenly, there\u2019s a CRASH. The man in the fishing hat at the RAHUL The cook rushes towards the phone. Rahul looks around INT. DINER – LATER<\/p>\n The paramedics roll the body of the man out on a stretcher in On it is written: RAHUL SOMASETTY OCTOBER 29, 1982 –<\/p>\n Rahul stares at the piece of paper for a long time. Finally,he takes a deep breath and turns it over.<\/strong><\/p>\n Written in large block letters: MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Okay, here’s the story I wrote for the 2nd assignment that won 1st place, even though i liked the complexity of the first piece better. genre: fantasy location: diner object: a stretcher No Man’s Land logline: A young waiter drifting through life meets a mysterious stranger in the middle of the night. INT. DINER – […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[10],"class_list":["post-2677","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-fiction"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/sbl5mn-2677","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2677","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2677"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2677\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3486,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2677\/revisions\/3486"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2677"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2677"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2677"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nlocation:<\/strong> diner
\nobject:<\/strong> a stretcher<\/p>\n
\nfries up on the kitchen ledge and bangs a nearby bell.
\nSeconds later, RAHUL, a frazzled young man in his 20\u2019s,
\nsweeps in and picks up the plates, putting them down in front
\nof a couple, moving quickly to another booth to take an
\norder. His eyes are exhausted and his shoulders hunched from
\nthe weight of life, but he has the natural graceful movements
\nof a dreamer–someone who gets things done quietly and
\nefficiently without actually being present.<\/p>\n
\ncanvassing the room, bringing food, taking orders, bussing
\ntables, the hands of the clock on the wall above the cashier
\nregister swinging around and around, marking the passage of
\ntime. 11…12…1…2…<\/p>\n
\nThe graveyard shift. The underbelly
\nof time. But there\u2019s a method to
\nthe madness. After 1, you get
\npeople coming off night shifts.
\nAfter 2, you get drunk crowds
\nstumbling in after the bars close.
\nBut 3am to the break of
\ndawn…that\u2019s No Man\u2019s Land. That\u2019s
\nwhen the rock of society lifts up,
\nand something…different<\/em> crawls out.<\/p>\n
\nswing into position marking 3 o\u2019clock, time returns to normal
\nspeed. The bells above the front door chime behind a
\ndeparting group. The only customer left is an OVERWEIGHT MAN
\nin a green fishing hat reading a worn paperback romance novel
\nat the counter. In the kitchen, the cook is frying something.<\/p>\n
\ndrawing is detailed and well-done. He has talent. He looks
\naway and suddenly notices a man sitting in a booth right in
\nfront of him shuffling playing cards.<\/p>\n
\nneat black suit, white shirt and thin, red tie. Sneakers.
\nNext to him is a shiny vinyl backpack. His unlined face, the
\nsparkle in his eye and his unusual attire make it hard to
\ntell his age–he could be anywhere from a 17 year-old kid
\ncoming from a school dance, to an eccentric 40 year-old.
\nWe\u2019ll call him DEE. Rahul approaches with a menu.<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019m sorry, I didn\u2019t even hear you
\ncome in.<\/p>\n
\nNo worries, I\u2019ve got nothing but
\ntime.<\/p>\n
\nCan I bring you anything to drink?<\/p>\n
\nJust coffee since I\u2019m working.<\/p>\n
\ncook puts down a plate of a giant brown mass swimming under a
\nlake of gravy. Rahul brings the plate to the guy at the
\ncounter and brings Dee the coffee. Dee closes his eyes, flips
\na card face up, opens his eyes, then puts the card in one of
\ntwo piles. Repeats.<\/p>\n
\nIf you don\u2019t mind me asking, what
\nare you doing?<\/p>\n
\nJust a little game to pass the
\ntime. Testing my psychic abilities.<\/p>\n
\n9 of Diamonds?<\/p>\n
\nNope.<\/p>\n
\nGuess I\u2019m not psychic.<\/p>\n
\n(amused)
\nWell, maybe it\u2019s for the better.
\nIt\u2019s probably a burden to be able
\nto see the future.<\/p>\n
\nThat\u2019s true. For most people, it
\nprobably wouldn\u2019t even make a
\ndifference.<\/p>\n
\nWhat do you mean?<\/p>\n
\nfried steak.<\/p>\n
\nTake that guy. If I walked up to
\nhim and said, \u201cHey bud, in a few
\nminutes you\u2019re gonna have a heart
\nattack and land face first in that
\ngravy so you should make the most
\nof the time you have left,\u201d do you
\nthink he\u2019s going to stand up and
\ncall his kids to tell them he loves
\nthem, forgive his wife for leaving
\nhim, and make peace with the world?<\/p>\n
\nHe\u2019ll probably just think you\u2019re
\nnuts.<\/p>\n
\nYes, probably. And your cook there.<\/p>\n
\nkitchen, smoking a cigarette.<\/p>\n
\nIf you told him that he\u2019s going to
\ndie in a fire at the age of 54
\nafter falling asleep with a
\ncigarette in his mouth, do you
\nthink he\u2019s going to quit smoking
\nand start making each day count?<\/p>\n
\n(uncomfortable)
\nYou said you\u2019re not a psychic.<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019m not. You don\u2019t have to be to
\nknow that each and every person in
\nthis world is going to die. And
\nthat\u2019s the point. Every single
\nperson knows they\u2019re going to die
\nsomeday, and yet, it doesn\u2019t seem
\nto motivate them to start living.<\/p>\n
\nHow do you know those guys aren\u2019t
\nliving their lives?<\/p>\n
\nlooking deep into Rahul.<\/p>\n
\nRahul…are you living your life?<\/p>\n
\nHow do you know my name?<\/p>\n
\nYou seem smart, talented, young.
\nYou still have promise. So what are
\nyou doing waiting tables in the
\nmiddle of the night?<\/p>\n
\nI–I dropped out of law school. I
\nhated it, wasn\u2019t doing that well so
\nI left to figure out what to do
\nwith my life.<\/p>\n
\nAnd how long ago was that?<\/p>\n
\nWhy do I get the feeling you
\nalready know?<\/p>\n
\nWe\u2019re just two strangers meeting in
\nthe middle of the night and having
\na conversation.<\/p>\n
\nTwo years ago.<\/p>\n
\nUh huh. And what have you figured
\nabout your life since?<\/p>\n
\nI have to get back to work. It was
\nnice talking to you…<\/p>\n
\nopenly.<\/p>\n
\nDeath.<\/p>\n
\n(under his breath)
\nOf course it is, you morbid fuck.<\/p>\n
\nengrossed in his cards.<\/p>\n
\nYou alright, Ra?<\/p>\n
\nYeah, couldn\u2019t be better.
\n(beat)
\nAnd you should quit smoking.<\/p>\n
\ncounter has face-planted into his plate of food. Rahul rushes
\nover and lifts the guy\u2019s head up, but his eyes are rolled
\ninto the back of his head.<\/p>\n
\nCall 9-1-1!<\/p>\n
\ndesperately. In the back booth where Dee had been, there is
\nonly a full cup of coffee, but no other trace of him.<\/p>\n
\na body bag. Rahul, looking weary, approaches Dee\u2019s booth and
\npicks up the coffee cup. There are two dollar bills and a
\nsmall piece of paper under the saucer. He picks up the paper.<\/p>\n