Politician

[As a literary exercise, i decided to pen an actual script. This is a drama; opening sequence. To be honest, i don't know what a professional script looks like, so i'll have to change the format later on]

*Start Scene*

[Outside a restaurant in a major city. A man is standing outside, clutching an envelope. Camera pans up to his face, twisted in frustrated anticipation]

Narr: There is a point in your life when a decision must be made. Great minds, minds greater than mine, call this a ‘crossroads’. The poet Robert Frost suggested that in times like these, one ought to take the road less travelled. So here i am.

Scene: A car pulls up. A black, luxury sedan. A barong tagalog wearing driver pops out and waits. Out of the restaurant comes a sophisticated, beautiful woman. She confidently strides to her car and the driver opens the rear door.

Jay: Wait. [jay starts to run]

Sarah: [pauses slightly to see who it is, and continues on her way to the car]. I don’t have time for whatever this is Jay.

6AM

It was dark and cold. I had gotten used to it, as much as anyone might get used to lack of light and feeling in one’s extremities. That is to say, not at all. I switch on the light. A solitary florescent bulb illuminates, but gives no warmth. Not a problem. I stumble to fill a tiny, rusted kettle with water and to breathe heat into the gas-fired oven. I take the matches from the shelf and with a deft gesture, i flick a stick onto the pad and light the oven. I’m amazed what 13 years of practice can do.

I sit in front of the stove, waiting expectantly for the water to come to a boil. Its not true, what they say about a watched pot. I wanted to wait — seven minutes and 48 seconds, give or take ten, to see the magic happen. But i think the better of it and start lighting up the other burner, and work on the three eggs and leftover longanisa with practiced ease.