(We hear him, thinking) "It used to come naturally to me, that cooperation, and the thing was, I was actually sincere! Maybe that's why it was easy, because I wasn't lying. I actually really liked most of the people I met—we met...navigating their faults, as I could feel them navigating mine. But it's like street smarts, relating to people. If you don't use it, it's gone. Gone so badly that you can never get it back."(We see him, but only from the chin down, lurching about the large, white room, tie dangling, holding gun in left hand. A female body, in wife-beater tee and panties, is visible slumped in corner of room, lower left of screen. Modest blood spatter on wall and floor around her.)
(Moves over to computer desk. Lays gun down to right of keyboard. We see his face, eyes flitting back and forth, looking for something, his right hand on the mouse, clicking frantically; mouse hand is visible in periphery lower right.)
(Close up on computer screen. We see cursor hover over browser icon and select. We see cursor select "Bookmarks." Body in corner suddenly moans, building slowly.) "UhhhhHHHHH!"
(The next thing we see is the familiar Facebook status field. Cursor clicks in field, as words "What's on your mind?" appear briefly, long enough to be read. Typing is heard gently. We see, "is dead. Edward shot me.")
(Cursor hovers over "Share" button, then selects.)
(Pushes away from desk, picks up gun, lets out a sigh) "Unhhh." (Blood smear that gun has left behind is seen on desk right of keyboard.)
(Lifts to feet, and lurches over to corner, where body is still slumped as before.)
From Fucking Bowler Hat, ©Wm. M. Berger 2009
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