This screenplay excerpt presents three distinct scenes united by tone and theme. The first, an "Aftermath Scene," constructs a montage of unsettling interior spaces — a toolshed, garage, basement, and farmhouse — through brief, imagistic shots that imply violence and obsession. The second scene, titled "Charles Bukowski Scene," follows a WWI veteran named Jack as he navigates a city in November 1919, incorporating verse from Bukowski's poetry to render his combat trauma and fragmented psychological state. The third scene returns to the toolshed, where a rare book dealer named Charles purchases a soldier's wartime diaries from a hoarder's nephew, framing the war narrative within a found-document conceit.
INT. TOOLSHED — NIGHT
Eerie silence. A single light bulb swings from a rusty socket at the center of the room. The bulb both creates and distorts shadows on the grayed and weathered wooden walls.
INT. CAR GARAGE — NIGHT
A sling blade hangs from the wall with fresh blood on the blade. The grey wooden floor has been covered with a plastic drop cloth and is spattered with blood.
INT. BASEMENT — NIGHT
Against the opposing wall, large meat hooks dangle from the basement ceiling. The light bulb casts the hooks' shadow onto the wall.
INT. LIVING ROOM, FARMHOUSE — NIGHT
The news is ending with a story about a marriage proposal at a baseball game and quickly transitions to paid programming.
INT. FIRST BEDROOM — NIGHT
Next to the bed is a table with various fetish and pornographic magazines scattered on it, and there is a half-full glass of cherry Kool-Aid next to the magazines.
INT. SECOND BEDROOM — NIGHT
Right below the glass are countless water rings. At the top of the stack is a fetishist catalogue open to a page of dominator garb that the sleeping man has earmarked.
INT. FARMHOUSE — DAY
Some Polaroids are scattered on the dresser. A close-up reveals they are pictures of women's perfectly manicured toenails. In some of the pictures, it is obvious the woman was bound by thick rope.
INT. DINER — LATE AFTERNOON
A quiet fall day at a diner in the middle of the city in November 1919, a year after World War I ended. There is a chill in the air. The day has progressively darkened as dark storm clouds roll in.
The diner is almost empty. JACK sits at a table near the window, his back to the entrance. He is wearing khaki-colored pants, a dark red plaid button-up shirt with a plain white undershirt underneath, a dark olive jacket, and brown lace-up boots. The sky becomes electrified and thunder rumbles in the distance. Jack flashes back to France and the war in the trenches.
JACK (V.O.):
We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Jack looks like he has not slept in days. He is distracted and does not notice the waitress refill his cup of black coffee. The waitress asks Jack something, but he does not hear what she has said. A crash of dishes in the kitchen snaps Jack back to the present and he instinctually ducks for cover.
JACK (V.O.) continued:
Made crazy and sick by this
Made violent
Made inhuman
By this
Embarrassed, Jack seeks to get out of the diner as fast as he can. He drops a nickel on the table and heads out the door. The storm has moved in overhead and the sun has been completely blotted out. Jack's mind begins to race, and even though he knows he is no longer on the warfront, he cannot reconcile his past and his present.
The psychological toll of combat — what would later be recognized as shell shock and, eventually, post-traumatic stress disorder — is rendered here entirely through action and verse, with no diagnostic language needed.
EXT. PARK — LATE AFTERNOON
Jack cuts through a park as he tries to get as far away from the diner as possible. The ground is littered with leaves of every shape and every hue of red, orange, yellow, and green. The leaves crunch and crackle with every step Jack takes. Jack pulls a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes from his jacket's breast pocket and a weathered trench lighter from his right jacket pocket. Jack never smoked until he went to war.
JACK (V.O.) continued:
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat
The gun
The knife
The bomb
The fingers reach toward an unresponsive god
The fingers reach for the bottle
The pill
The powder
It begins to rain. Jack tugs at his jacket collar, trying to get it to close just a little bit more. The leaves no longer crunch under Jack's boots. The path begins to turn into thick, black mud. As he marches on, he is again transported to the trenches.
JACK (V.O.) continued:
The rotting bodies of men and animals will stink in the dark wind
The last few survivors will be overtaken by new and hideous diseases
The natural effect of general decay…
It gradually stops raining.
JACK (V.O.) continued:
And there will be the most beautiful silence never heard
Born out of that.
The sun still hidden there
Awaiting the next chapter.
For a brief second, Jack forgets about his haunting past, his frantic present, and his unknown future. The world has been washed clean, and while the sun does not come out, the world and his future seem brighter.
INT. TOOLSHED — DAY
(Two men enter.)
CHARLES (a rare book dealer, wearing glasses)
Do you have the diaries?
GEORGE (the nephew of the late owner of the house, dressed in a t-shirt and khakis)
Yep, they are in here somewhere. (Rifling through the garbage in the toolshed.)
CHARLES
How did you find them?
GEORGE
Lying on the floor.
CHARLES
And then you called me?
GEORGE
You deal in rare books.
CHARLES
The diaries of a World War I soldier!
GEORGE
Interested in uncle's girlie rags, too?
CHARLES
Huh?
GEORGE
I'll throw 'em in for free!
CHARLES
No!
GEORGE
The diaries could be valuable?
"Rare book dealer buys soldier's wartime diary"
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