Project Kittinger

When the pinball brain is on fast forward I get fucking movies in my head. Not just the written word, it plays like I’m watching an actual movie. The working title is Space Station Kittinger...because that will be the name of the space station. That's a dull actual title, but I want to give it something. Makes it more real.

A women running. She’s running barefoot.  We can hear her accelerated breathing,  we hear the pounding of her feet, because she’s running through a deserted corridor in a space station. She has thick red hair and it’s flying out behind her. She's wearing comfortable looking clothes but they're not exercise clothes. Is she running away from someone or something? There's a look of determination on her face and she whips around a corner and almost directly in front of her is a cleaning 'bot. She's startled but leaps over it with ease, glancing behind her and laughing. Now there are a few people ahead. She dodges around them, still running. Two young men in uniform are walking toward her, one sees notices her and shouts as she passes, "Stillman is looking for you!" An overhead voice, sounding extremely annoyed, "Zee! To the docking bay! Now, damnit!" She grins and whips around another corner. She's running toward something.

A ship is docking at the station. Interior, we see a young man, sitting alone. The area he’s sitting in is not shiny and fancy, this is not some high-tech space machine, it’s a beat up transport. The waiting area is dimly lit. He’s dressed shabbily. Big boots, baggy, worn out clothes. He’s wearing mirrored sunglasses, he has shaggy, shoulder-length hair and a beard. Beat up duffel bag at his feet. Sitting very still, head leaned back. Is he asleep? Obligatory sounds of pressure valves and clunking around coming from the docking of the ship to the station. A voice over the intercom. “Docking completed. You are green to disembark.” Pause, slight tones of sarcasm. “Enjoy your stay, kid.” The young man, not asleep, slowly and deliberately lifts his left arm and flips the bird at the disembodied voice. He head comes upright. He grabs the duffel bag, stands, and heaves it over his shoulder. He steps up to the door.

“Okay. Let’s go.” The door opens.