Harold Cold Stone (in progress)

Harold Coldstone sitting in an old train station bench He looks down at the rusted metal supporting him, the off yellow paint peeling away from it’s original décor. He rubs the metal pushing the paint away, lightly staining his thumb tip red with rust. Harold is an employee at the Coldstone shrimp and fish market. He packs, checks, cleans, cooks, strips, and guts various types of aquatic animals for his father and founder. His profession has taught him a lot about working with his hands. He wipes his thumb on his wind breaker and notices white chalk still on his black work shoes. He takes classes at a community college a few miles north east of the bench he sits in now. He walks to both his classes and work usually wearing the same set of fish stink black shoes. They make a sort of squeak with every step, the sound of rubber and skin working against each other. Harold always considered his walks to and from school and work to be the most productive use of his time but he always thought education and a steady income to be worthwhile, until recently. Only hours ago Harold was performing a presentation on plate tectonic activity within the last five years in the Atlantic ocean, to an assembly of peers who all had an expression of preoccupation, but it didn’t bother Harold. The only point during the geographic explanation that spiked the interest of Marie Holland is when Harold leaned on the chalk shelf with a little too much confidence. Harold crashed onto the tile in a heap of broken chalk and white powder. The class seemed to have a reserved sense of concern but Harold got up quickly only to make a half hearted joke related to plate tectonics and his balance. Marie Chuckled and Harold took notice of her for the first time. He produced the remainder of the presentation without interruption, only now with a timid awareness of a new possible person of interest. Harold looked up at the sky from the station bench and felt the cool November air push through the station. The smell of rain reminded him of Allen Burner and his brother Dave Burner and The first day of Harold’s junior year at Harlamen high. He entered his 8:30 statistics class with his clothes soaked and his black shoes filled with rain water.

Bruno Edwards-character study

“My name Is Bruno Edwards, and im a dead man.” Bruno walks up a street on an incline in his mining boots and a large over coat. Its Britain in the 1950s in a mining town. His boots make loud clomping sounds as he steps. He passes a café full of big to do people “If I see one more fat cat richy rich bastard smoking a cigar in a coffee shop ill probably loose my fuckin marbles”. Bruno walks past and stops at a street corner and lights a cigarette. “I remember saying that to myself yesterday” Bruno looks down the street then down the other end. “I wasn’t always a sour puss ye see, I used to be one of em” He turns back to the coffee shop he just passed only this time he trodds a little faster as he gets close to the door way he produces a maltov cocktail from his over coat, lights the kerosene soaked cloth with his cigarette and throws it through the doorway. He bursts out running loosing his coat as a woman screams and the doorway explodes in red heat and flames in the cold London breeze. “but now I hunt em” Bruno turns a corner and is down an alley. “Like I said though things used to be different, well not too different, I was always a scumbag, but back then I didn’t think I was” Flash back scene of bruno as a wealthy man with his suit on and a cigar in his mouth. “my name used to be Nathan Edwards, the chairmen of the board for one of the leading mining companies owned by my father. I was a university graduate so I didn’t do much grunt work in my younger years. I was taught to be snotty from birth and I was snotty. My mother and father died when I was 24 and I inherited all of their riches and took my father’s place as president of his mining corporation. I can remember barking orders at workers slaving on the factory floors. I often demanded and threatened honest hardworking people when things weren’t to my satisfaction.”
Show a montage of Nathan doing horrible things to workers slaving.
“ my company polluted more under my years of power then any other time in the history of its establishment. People were dying of illness or suffering from disabilities because of my factories’ output of air and water pollution, which the board and myself were very aware of.” Show a montage of pollution and ill people. I was a monster until one night when I was making my rounds to check for any bodies or injured workers around my factory I saw a dead man with his arms twisted up in a machine. I walked up close to check his workers ID and was dumb struck by his face, he looked exactly like me. I searched his jacket for his id and it said “Bruno Edwards” . Turns out dad had mistresses and bruno here was my step brother. I fell to my knees in Bruno’s pool of blood as if it were my own. All the horrors I committed finally hit me like a brick load of regret. It seemed that Bruno was my innocence, and I murdered it.” Next scene is Bruno back in the alley way he’s sitting against a brick wall with his cigarette in his mouth and another moltav cocktail in his hands. Down the alley is the sound of dogs barking and police men yelling, “down here! He ran down this way!” “I guess I never really considered myself until my own dead eyes stared me back in the face” he lights the kerosene soaked cloth with his cigarette “and so now im a dead man”

Poem

He spent his whole life holding his breath

Working on something to earn his death

And in his head he would sing along

It was just easier to repeat the song

And he fell in love with what he loved to hate

You know it seemed it was just his fate

But sometimes in his subway seat

When he looked down between his feet

He’d be speeding down the tracks completely still

And that made him feel very ill.