©2011 Ian S. Bolton


©2006 Ian S. Bolton


©2006 Ian S. Bolton
©2006 Ian S. Bolton
©2006 Ian S. Bolton
©2011 Ian S. Bolton
©2006 Ian S. Bolton


THOMAS has come back into the park again.

We can see him going up the path that leads to the meadow on the hill-top.

A strong, constant breeze rustles the leaves of the trees and bushes.

He retraces his steps across the meadow in the dawn-quiet park.

The only sound is the wind in the trees.

THOMAS has his camera with him as usual and as he walks towards the clump of bushes at the far end of the meadow he adjusts it, making it ready to photograph the corpse.

He comes forward, running a few steps.

As he gradually comes closer to the bushes in the foreground he slows down and concentrates.

THOMAS is partly obscured by the foliage as he come round the clump of bushes.

His tension grows.

He has the impression that, behind the bush, something has changed…

He comes right round, looking down.

Camera tracks in to close-up as he stops, drawing in his breath.

Could it be the wrong bush?

No, it is this one, undoubtedly.

But the copse is no longer there.

THOMAS kneels down to look at the grass.

He looks for any marks which the body might have left where it was stretched out.

Close-up of THOMAS from above looking at the grass.

It looks perfectly normal.

Hardly a blade is bent.

He looks up into the sky: the wind has risen and is rustling the leaves more insistently.

The boughs which had spread above the dead man’s head are moved by a stronger gust of wind.

Camera tilts down from them to THOMAS.

He looks down to the spot where the corpse should be, then turns and takes a few steps forward.

Then he stops.

Above the line of trees behind him the great neon sign looms up into the lightening sky.

From THOMAS’s point of view we see part of the meadow with its border of trees.

It is completely deserted.

Resume on THOMAS.

He looks down to where the body lay, then across to the bottom of the meadow where another path begins, then back to the bushes.

Perhaps the body has been dragged that way.

But nothing.

Not a trace.

The huge neon sign goes out.

The daylight is strengthening.

THOMAS looks towards the sign and then back down to the grass under the bushes.

THOMAS stands disconsolately in front of the bushes.

Then he moves off towards the path he came up by.

His steps are slow, his camera dangling by his side.