Anna Nemeth

Bernard, The Waves by Virginia Woolf

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AROUND NOON.
A PAVILION WITH A RESTAURANT IN A PARK.
CLEAR SKY.
THE GEOMETRICAL WOODEN STRUCTURE OF THE PAVILION DRAWS DISTORTED SHADOWS OVER ITSELF AND THE DIRECT SURROUNDING.
AT SOME POINT THE SHADOWS MELT WIT THE INACCURATE AND COVERING SHADOW OF THE TREE IN FRONT. SLIGHT WIND GETS LOSE THINGS MOVE GENTLY.
LUNCHTIME.TWITTERING OF BIRDS.
AN IRREGULARLY REPEATING SOUND OF SOMETHING COLLIDING WITH A SEEMINGLY WOODEN SURFACE.

A BOY, about 11 years old, brown hair, freckled face, red shirt, is playing soccer in front of the wooden staircase, leading up on the roof terrace of the pavilion.
The boy is placing his recognizable brand new ball precisely on a spot of soil.
He steps back two or three steps.

He looks up to the upper part of the staircase and focuses on one opening in the structure on the left side. He looks back down to the ball resting unchanged where he prepared it.
The boy prepares to shoot.
He hesitates, gets back to the ball, twists it gently, then steps back again.

Now, with a resolute expression in his face, he focuses again the ball, the opening, and the ball again. He starts to run and shoots. The ball takes his flight path.
The layers of the structure in front melt together.
They make it impossible to determine the right position of the ball.

But now for only an instant we see, the ball flies straight through the rectangular opening. The boy screams exited.
The ball is now between the staircase and the front building part of the pavilion.
It is already falling.

The ball seems to land on a table, already set for two people, standing at the edge of the pavilion. The boy realizes the upcoming collision of the ball with the plates on the table.
He freezes.
The ball misses the unintended target.

Instead it hits the corner of a small column.
It bounces off, the change of direction is unpredictable.
The boy is still in freeze.
The ball crosses the space in a diagonal direction on eye level. It stops by hitting an other column, this time on the surface. The rebound slows the ball down. It lands on the floor and rolls outside the pavilion, along other columns.
It gets slower and stops at one of the last tables, placed on the terrace.

STILL LUNCHTIME. PEOPLE CHATTING,THE NOISE OF DISHES.

A WOMAN, assumably in her early fifties, dressed in an elegant jumpsuit in royal blue, the clothing and her decent blond-grayish hair slightly moving in the wind, is sitting at the table.
She is talking on the phone.
Only her facial expression is pointing out on her talking.The sound of the chatting of other people is too loud to hear her voice. The expression on her face is one of questioning and not agreeing.

She says something, while gesticulating with her other hand not holding the phone. She gets back to listening. Annoyed expression on her face.
Her look focuses the back part of the pavilion.
With a bored expression on her face she seems to count the layers of the structure, or the elements of the structure. It is not possible to tell.

Her head moves slightly from left to right. And again.
She is still counting.
And again.

Her head stops moving.
She hangs up the phone with a satis ed smile.
She places the phone on the table, lifts her hand and makes herself visible for the waiter standing in diagonal direction next to a ladder leading up to the second floor.

A WAITER, about 20 years old, messy hairstyle, white shirt, black pants, yellow socks, is leaning at a column next to the ladder leading up to the second floor, ignoring the ongoing situation.
He seems to be on a break. Or not.
He puts his hand into the pocket of his trousers and takes out tobacco, papers, a lighter.

He opens the pack and takes out a precise amount of tobacco, places it skilled into a paper and starts to roll. With an automatized move his hand gets back into the packet, searching for a filter.
The expression on his face gets irritated.
He goes on searching.

The expression on his face gets stressed.
He goes on searching.
The expression on his face rests.
Tobacco, papers, lighter and half rolled cigarette in one hand, he searches in his trouser pocket.The expression on his face relaxes. He takes out a filter.
The waiter stays in his position, not able to move.
The filter rolls slightly.
The waiter makes a quick move, trying to prevent the disaster.
The filter rolls and disappears in the gap between the floor slabs.
Luckily the slabs are resting on wooden beams.
The waiter picks up the filter from the gap, finishes the rolling and lights up the cigarette. Exhausted, relieved.
He lifts up his look, observing A SPARROW sitting on a branch in the tree in front of him.

Suddenly the sparrow flies on to the structure and lands on a beam spanning the walkway.
The sparrow observes the scene below.
It focuses the breadcrumbs left on the tables.
The Woman, still not served by a waiter, gets up and leaves dissatisfied by taking the three steps down the pavilion right next to her table. The bird waits for an other instant.
The table is left alone.
It flies on to the table and starts picking crumbs. Satisfied.

THE CAMERA MOVES OUT.
NOISES GET LOWER
THE WIND IS STILL MOVING SLIGHTLY.