Kate Finnerty
Stories (2/0)
What do you do?
Here we go. INT. RESTAURANT. LIVERPOOL. EVENING. KATE (27) leans on the brass bar. She raises her leg and holds her ankle, gently rotating it. She places her foot back on the floor but remains on her toes. She dusts her hand on her apron. There is a cold, wet gravy stain. KATE (dry heave) (deep sigh) Oh, that is just great Kate grabs a napkin and wipes the apron and hand. EMILY (20) walks towards Kate, her feet turned out pounding the tiled floored with some authority. KATE (continued) (muttered) and it's on my shirt. EMILY That's one good thing about the waistcoat, it doesn't stain the white. She pulls at the grey, faux tweed article of tired clothing and then nudges Kate's elbow. EMILY (continued) You need to stop leaning? KATE (dull, sarcastic) Yes, head waitress. EMILY We need you to come in earlier tomorrow. KATE I can't, I'm freelancing. EMILY Oh right, yes. I forgot. Emily adjusts her position, she tilts her head. Her voice adjusts in pitch. Raised higher than normal. EMILY (continued) Right, and what is it that you do again? KATE I'm a picture researcher. (Tired) I work in... EMILY (Sharp) Never heard of it. Well what time can you get in for?
By Kate Finnerty3 years ago in Journal