A Film Script I Never Wrote – Black Sheep

I had this idea once and wrote almost the first page of a movie script. It’s funny and I like it, and as I have no desire to write more of it right now, I thought I’d share it with you. (It’s not 100% formatted correctly, I know, but I usually do that when I’m done with a script.)


In the distance, a U.S. Naval officer’s fueral is being held.  A somber crowd is gathered around the grave.

Nearest to the coffin, which is perched over the open grave on the lowering mechanism, is a row of seats.  In the chair by the aisle sits a young woman of about twenty eight, crying as her shaking fingers run through the hair of a child too young to know what is happening.  An officer kneels before her, holding up the flag of the United States of America.


A girl, PAULIE, who is two or three years old is struggling to get her dress over her head.  It gets caught on her elbows, then her chin. A few feet away, Paulie’s AUNT DANA is distracted by something in the distance.  The child’s struggle is comical as the camera slowly zooms out to reveal that the young girl is actually only a few yards away from the funeral.  

The child gets closer and closer to the gathered crowd, still attempting to pull the dress off but the older woman who was supposed to be watching her does not notice.  The dress gets caught on her her chin, and then her nose. She bumps into a member of the crowd, and the older woman has noticed, and begins delicately running through the grass in her funeral heels. 

The girl’s dress is stuck around her forehead, and she struggles with it.  She laughs at the challenge, and she tugs on it as she runs, bumping into more funeral goers.  Most of the crowd, except her mother, has noticed her antics.


I guess I’ve always been the black sheep of the family.

Finally, Paulie has freed herself from the dress, and flings it away.  It lands on the coffin, and now all eyes are on her. Her mother, JAN, still shaking as she holds the flag, faints, and is caught by another funeral goer as Jan’s own mother beside her snatches the baby out of her lap.

After Dinner

Classical music wafts in the background,

a low, tinkling sound that melds with the rattle of the radiators.

The dishes are piled up, needing to be washed,

the laundry hangs from miscellaneous light fixtures as it dries,

and the crumbs from dinner are spread across the couch.

But I will sit,

and try to enjoy this cup of coffee.

Perhaps I will figure out

how to tread water in this melancholy

because otherwise

I will drown in it.

what is that feeling

What is that feeling

the one that sits in the middle of your chest

and threatens to encompass your entire being

while dribbling down into your gut

like sewage infecting pure water

the one that ends up pooling in your feet

making them too heavy

to pick up off the floor

the feeling that swirls up like cigarette smoke

making your throat dry and ragged

and filling up your head with a fog

that tastes like ash

What is that feeling?