EXT. STREET - DAY - THE LAST SCENE OF THE DAY

The 🅜 line rumbles high above, shaking its steel-&-rusted subway stilts. Rumble, rumble.

We pan down and see HORACE (31) on the street, crouched and drawing a line with crumbled white chalk. We're up close, but not too close. He glances up at MONA (31), who impatiently watches him a few feet away.

HORACE: Wait, wait, wait. Keep waiting. Hold your waiting. Wait on your waiting. Ok. 

Horace looks around. People scuttle by. He glances up at the blue sky. We hear a pop sound and letter-shaped clouds pop in, spelling: THE LAST SCENE OF THE DAY. He then improvisationally steers the chalk line into a rough circle, enclosing himself away from Mona.

HORACE: You can't cross this circle. You shan't cross...this fuckin' circle.