Dear Ms. Einstein –   The Midnight Mourner is a Christmas ghost story, revolving around the strange occurrences observed and lived through by three young children in their townhouse in early 17th century London.   It all begins on the first of December, when the family moves into the newly built house on Fitzroy Square, unaware that their lives are about to change forever. Jacob, ten; Jennifer, eight, and Huckleberry, four, soon find themselves beginning to believe – mor...

SCARECROW By Annie 2007-12-25 EXT. PUMPKIN PATCH - NIGHT The pumpkins’ fiery color is hidden by the blue light of a nearly full moon. All is still and quiet in the patch. A field mouse slinks between the thick vines connecting the pumpkins, disappearing out of sight as swiftly as it appeared. The patch is large, surrounded by a very old, very rickety wooden fence. Beyond it stretches a view of freshly turned fields, their earth dark against the deep blue horizon. In the middle of the pumpkin ...

BARABAC 2007-08-21 Second Draft By Annie Open with black screen. BARABAC (V.O.) It’s easy to pull the trigger. It’s easy to take a life. It’s protecting life that’s a bitch. Some people seem meant for disaster. INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT It’s dark. It’s vast, but almost empty. A few cars stand scattered around the space. JAMES BARABAC (42), lean, but tough, wearing a nice suit and loosened tie, has dark hair, blue eyes, a handsome face. He is ducking behind one of the abandoned vehicles. TESS (28...

BARABAC 2007-08-21 Second Draft By Annie Open with black screen. BARABAC (V.O.) It’s easy to pull the trigger. It’s easy to take a life. It’s protecting life that’s a bitch. Some people seem meant for disaster. INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT It’s dark. It’s vast, but almost empty. A few cars stand scattered around the space. JAMES BARABAC (42), lean, but tough, wearing a nice suit and loosened tie, has dark hair, blue eyes, a handsome face. He is ducking behind one of the abandoned vehicles. TESS (28...

BARABAC 2007-07-02 By Annie INT. DINER - DAY It’s your typical Route 66 inspired hang-out, filled to the brim with slogan T-shirt wearing, cap wielding truck drivers. Three of these are MARTIN (42), GREGORY (36) and KEN (49). They are sitting in a booth by one of the large windows overlooking the vast parking lot, hosting a number of impressive vehicles. The three men are having a friendly argument, one that seems to be familiar to all of them. MARTIN You know you’re never going to win. Never...

Here I stand at your threshold, my shirt slipping off my shoulders before your eyes have slid over my form. I step inside without an invitation. I put my arms around you, and love you, and have you sweep away the mundane. You, the sin. I, the sinner. And though I know you’re incapable of any deeper feeling, I can sense what it is you truly need from me. What you wish from me every time I show up at your doorstep, every time I rest in your bed and watch you stare out over a city none of us rem...

The rain falls on rooftops it patters their tin it pools in their drainpipes and rushes within. It cleans out the air takes away all its grit washes the world for the sunrise to fit. A new day is dawning it's gilded with hope with promises spoken for nature to cope to fill up her lungs with the freshness of dew allow for the morning to brighten her hue. The rain falls in droplets it patterns the Earth it fastens in cobwebs and shimmers its mirth. It wishes to wake with the rays of the sun tho...

The rain falls on rooftops it smatters their tin it pools in their drainpipes and rushes within. It cleans out the air takes away all its grit washes the world for the sunrise to fit. A new day is dawning it's gilded with hope with promises spoken for nature to cope to fill up her lungs with the freshness of dew allow for the morning to brighten her hue. The rain falls in droplets it patterns the Earth it fastens in cobwebs and shimmers its mirth. It wishes to wake with the rays of the sun th...

Darkness rests beneath his brow and in his eyes there's death I yearn for it, to merge somehow with every whispered breath In his arms I am myself and still I am removed As a book upon a shelf red-backed and subdued He reads the pages that he likes and leaves the rest to rot as though I am to be despised for everything I'm not So when he asks me "Will you come" how can I not say yes I want it all with flesh and bone forever cursed, I guess