Frig It! Screenplay for a not-yet-produced short film by Joanne C. Hillhouse
Irma swings the flashlight toward the gap where the door and window used to be.
Water gushes through both openings. A TEARING metallic sound. Irma swings the flashlight toward the roof. Another part of the GALVANIZE roof rips away. Cresilla’s scream cuts off when she looks up and glimpses a red-chested figure with black cape.
CRESILLA, in wonder, voice carrying in excitement: Frig it!
What Can Story Do?
I’m not a scientist nor a politician, but, climate change is real and writing is how I process life. The creative process compels me to grapple with whatever anxiety, and frankly fear, I may be feeling about our current and near future reality.
Home on the Waves
The sea breeze stank with the aroma of rotted seaweed, piled on the eroded and littered shore. Dead fish and mutilated sea life were a norm.
Milk in Bush Tea
By sunup, Soufrière have the country inside out. Bryna cyar recognize he farm; the North Pole like it move to Orange Hill, bringing heat instead ah cold.
Snow on Banana Leaves
Petra had lived long enough to witness this once before. The monstrous anger of Soufriere in 1979. The pelted stones and the wrathful skies of obsidian.