Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948 (no_vacancies) wrote in reel_lj,
Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948

The intro post. I'm Ashe, and I was told to get my ass here by Shonee. Lovely, isn't he? Anyhow, this is my favourite piece, which I had actually wanted to make into a short fim myself (as I'm a film student, or soonish/sort of one). Hence why it is already in a horribly done lj-text entry screenplay format (I swear the word version isn't like this). It's based on a short story I had written for a Creative Writing course, called "Double Happiness." I linked the story from my other journal. Feedback, input, criticism, it's all appreciated.


A warm loft, with hardwood floors, gauzy curtains, open windows. The walls are stark white, and there is a mattress and box springs on the floor. They are covered in cool white linens. There is a blue flowered window seat that overlooks a wrought-iron balcony.

There is a window and box seat, and in the window hangs rose-colored rosary beads.

On the floor are Polaroid pictures.

On the bed lie naked, JIMMY DEAN, a mid-twenties man, with dark hair, a five o’clock shadow and sparkling eyes. Next to him is EMILIA a curvy woman, with waist-length wavy hair and warm skin. Their bodies are speckled with red dots from the rosary beads.

The phone RINGS.

ISABEL, a young woman with messy hair and a lithe body crosses over to the phone sitting on the floor.

She quietly picks it up and holds the receiver to her ear.

She sits on the window seat with her feet under her.

J (V.O.)
Where were you last night, Isa?
I missed you. I thought you were
supposed to come over after work.

J’s voice is smooth like honey, with an edge caused by whiskey and cigarettes.

ISABEL runs her hand over the handle of the phone to warm the cold ceramic up.

J, I had to work last night, sweetie.
I went straight home.

ISABEL is lying. She puts her hand in her forehead and furrows her brow.

J is hurt.
J (V.O.)
Why didn’t you answer the phone when
I called you?

ISABEL wraps her fingers in the telephone cord. She cradles the phone receiver in her lap. She doesn’t respond.

J (V.O.)
ISA… are you there? Why didn’t you answer
the phone when I called you last night?

ISABEL concentrates. She is deciding what to say.

I had a few drinks after I got home. I was
So exhausted; I didn’t hear the phone ring.
I’m sorry my sweet. Why don’t you come over
tonight? I’ll make you dinner.


The bowling alley had dim lighting. It is noisy, with classic rock music playing.

The balls speed towards the pins and strike violently.

In one lane plays EMILIA, JIMMY DEAN and ISABEL.

EMILIA is bending over; her bottom forms a heart shape, and on the pocket of her jeans are arrows. She throws the orange bowling ball down the lane.

She misses.

JIMMY DEAN sits next to ISABEL at the score table. He has on a fedora and wife-beater. He lights a cigar, and gets up.

He picks up his dark green bowling ball and throws it down the lane.

He strikes out.

He struts back to the table. EMILIA stands up, and he pulls her to him, swings around, and sits down with her straddling him.

JIMMY DEAN leans over and whispers naughty things into ISABEL’S ear. ISABEL smiles demurely and a blush rises to her cheek.


The light in the kitchen is warm and golden. The kitchen has linoleum floors, dark cabinets, yellow flowered wallpaper and an old refrigerator.

In the sink is a dirty sifter filled with dried out pasta noodles. There are speckles of tomato sauce and chicken skins in the sink.

There is a half empty bottle of Spumanti on the counter, and several wine glasses that have drops of wine leftover in them.

A pair of French doors leads outside, and they are open. A gentle wind blows the sheer curtains that hang on the doors.

JIMMY DEAN sits on a wooden stool and strums gently on an acoustic guitar. It’s warm maple brown with a sunburst.

EMILIA slowly begins to sway her hips in an old pink slip. Her hips pick up momentum as she moves into the dance. Her arms move around her head, she twists and turns and moves to the music.

An old oscillating fan rotates and the blades spin noisily.



ISABEL leans against the wall on the window seat and gazes out the window.

J (V.O.)
What time do you want me to come over?

ISABEL drops her voice, making it tender and vulnerable.

Why… why don’t you come over around nine?
I have some photographs to work on first…
but after that, just you and me. We can
catch up J. I’ve missed you. We’re both so
busy lately, that we never get to spend time
together anymore…

ISABEL looks at the Polaroids that lie of the floor. They are of JIMMY DEAN and EMILIA.


EMILIA twists and turns on the wooden floors.

JIMMY DEAN strums the guitar and looks up at EMILIA dancing on the floor.

ISABEL grabs her old Canon camera in one hand, and a Polaroid camera in the other.

She spins around the room taking pictures wildly.

The Polaroids fall to the floor and develop; no one sees them develop.

EMILIA embraces ISABEL. EMILIA wraps her arms around ISABEL from behind and removes the cameras from her hands. ISABEL reaches for the cameras.

JIMMY DEAN puts down the guitar and turns on the record player. He walks to the women.

He takes ISABEL’S hands and pulls her into his arms. JIMMY DEAN and ISABEL sway to the music.

EMILIA joins the two dancing. She slides up behind ISABEL and wraps her arms around the other two. EMILIA lays her head on ISABEL’S shoulder.

A breeze picks up outside and the curtains blow.



ISABEL tapped her bare foot against the side of the wall.

J sighs.

ISABEL hides her head in her shoulder.

J (V.O.)
I didn’t know you had a photo shoot
recently. Isabel, I hate the conflict in
our schedules. I never know what you are
doing anymore.

ISABEL shifts uncomfortably. She pulls her legs underneath her, and cradles the phone in her lap.

These aren’t new pictures, J. I haven’t
had a photo shoot in awhile. They are just
reprints of some old ones.

Rays of light pour through the window.

The shape of the window panes reflects onto the bodies of EMILIA and JIMMY DEAN.

The rosary beads sway against the window.

-EMILIA’s hips
-JIMMY DEAN’S and EMILIA’S legs entwined
-JIMM DEAN’S and EMILIA’S sleeping faces


ISABEL picks up the phone, and quietly stands up.

She tiptoes to the corner where EMILIA hid her cameras.

She picks up the Canon, and tiptoes back to the window seat.

She sits. She holds the camera up to her face.

The camera covers most of her delicate face.

She quietly snaps photos of the two sleeping lovers, and cradles the phone between her shoulder and chin.

The Garden of Eden is full of lush, fruit bearing trees. There are wild flowers and plants that grow knee-height. It is silent.

JIMMY DEAN and EMILIA stand facing one another, nude, with their bodies touching.

A brightly colored SNAKE, boa constrictor, climbs the legs of JIMMY DEAN and EMILIA.

ISABEL appears. She is nude, looks wild and untamed. Her hair is ratted and knotted. Her lips are bright red and moist.

She holds an apple out to EMILIA and JIMMY DEAN.

EMILIA takes the apple from ISABEL’S hand with her mouth.

JIMMY DEAN takes the other side of the apple in his mouth.

JIMMY DEAN and EMILIA bite into the apple at the same time.

ISABEL laughs wildly, silently.



ISABEL rubs her eyes roughly. She runs her hands through her hair.

J (V.O.)
What are you doing right now, ISABEL?

ISABEL forces a smile.

I’m just… just slowly waking up.
Lazy Saturday mornings, you remember those.

ISABEL’S fingers wrap themselves in the phone cord.

JIMMY DEAN peeks over the shoulder of EMILA. An impish grin crosses his face.

He wiggles his finger towards ISABEL.

Isa… Isa… come back to bed…

ISABEL presses her finger to her lips. She mouths “My Girlfriend.”

JIMMY DEAN nods his head. He lays it on EMILIA’S shoulder and watches ISABEL.

J (V.O.)
Do you want me to come over now? I
could make you breakfast. Maybe I
could bring over 8 ½?

ISABEL clenched her eyes.

(voice cracking)
No, no, no. I really ought to get some
work done. The loft is a mess, and I
really want to work on these photos…

J (V.O.)
ISABEL, there is nothing sadder than a
person who finds redemption, and then
loses themselves again. I’ll see you
tonight. Goodbye, ISABEL.

ISABEL holds her clenched fist to her forehead.

Goodbye, J.

J HANGS UP the phone, and ISABEL hangs up her line slowly.

ISABEL drops to the floor, and crawls on all fours to the mattress.

Across the hardwood floors slithers the SNAKE towards the mattress and ISABEL crosses to it.

Defeated, ISABEL climbs onto the mattress and crawls between JIMMY DEAN and EMILIA.

JIMMY DEAN looks into ISABEL’S eyes, and kisses the palm of her hand.

You haven’t fallen from grace, Isa.

EMILIA tenderly straightens strands of ISABEL’S hair. She wraps her arms around ISABEL and kisses her shoulder gently.

Love is only so strong a bind. She will
be okay.

The three bodies lie in the sunlight, with red golden orbs sprinkling their bodies.

The link to the short story format
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