Space Probe
There’s more than one way to fill a void
Fade in.
Department Store Parking Lot — Day
A tall, slender brunette, age indeterminate, maybe late fifties, early sixties, emerges from a chocolate brown Fiat and walks toward a department store. We’ll call her Ava.
Int. Store
Ava rifles through tops on a rack marked “small.”
Used to be, I detested clothes-shopping. Hated. It. When you’re overweight, it’s hard to find a garment that’s flattering and comfortable. Consequently, I was never a fan of anything remotely “form-fitting.” Like this shirt, which, since I have a lipstick this exact shade, I’m going to buy.
She pulls a cherry red, short-sleeve T-shirt with a deep V-neck from the rack.
When I wasn’t paying attention, menopause and my nearly non-existent workout routine took a toll on my body and my head. And my eating was out of control. I thought nothing of having second and third portions of a dish I really enjoyed. Like pasta. I could bury my head in a friggin’ bowl of noodles.
During this period, after a hell of a lot of work and aggressive self-promotion (I was unrepped at the time), one of my short screenplays attracted the attention of an indie producer who paid me actual money for the…
