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Exterior. Day.

A man enters the frame in front of a blue sky peppered with white clouds. He is of average build and has a wash of hair gracing his forehead that appears rather foreign in nature. As you watch, you notice his gaze is directed eastward. He turns and looks three times.

We pan away from man to exterior view of building. Here we overhear another relating a story.

On September 22, Elizabeth Ferguson was arrested on the steps of Fort Garry. She later testified that she found her husband, Albert, in bed with a young soldier, Thomas Turner. She shot and killed both Turner and her husband. Her lawyers argued her actions as justified; not only had she discovered her husband unfaithful but with another man. She was found guilty and sentenced to hang. Various church groups were in the process of organizing an appeal when Mrs. Ferguson committed suicide by throwing herself down a cement staircase. Supposedly, all three ghosts of this lovers triangle still haunt the second floor of the hotel. Guests occasionally report hearing a woman crying or the passionate sounds of male couples.

Cut to close up of a man’s face. As his eyes open, he gazes out at you, a little dazed, trying to figure where he is. You view his body in the sweltering heat of your mother’s homeland.

Cutaway to group.

They said police say the bar is a hangout for homosexuals. That homosexuals frequently carry false identification papers, making positive identification of the victims nearly impossible. But perhaps the fear was that our bodies and blood were already marked positive.

Dissolve to interior. Day.

Two men stand near each other. One passes a cigarette to the other and glances away. The man blows a puff of smoke in the direction of the first. Our gazes lock for a moment, and their bodies lightly press.

Cut to news footage:

“Police arson squads are investigating the ruins of a New Orleans bar where a fire last night killed 29 persons and injured 15 others. Bruce Hall reports:” 


“The flash fire spread throughout the second story bar in a matter of seconds. Those who escaped reported smelling gasoline before the room was engulfed with flames. The two eye-witnesses, who would not allow their faces to be shown, told WWLTV newsman Bill Elder it was arson.”

“As I looked, and the front door was on fire, and… there’s nothing ignitable in that exit. Nothing ignitable at all.”

“And you say it was murder?”


“I’m not going to say murder. I will say that what was done was done intentionally.”


“Those inside said there was massive panic, and people started running all over. Most headed for the windows, but that proved to be a tragic decision. They were stopped immediately by iron bars over the windows. Only a few people were able to slip through. Coroner Carl Raven said it also appeared there was a false wall in front of the windows. Police say the bar is a hangout for homosexuals. That homosexuals frequently carry false identification papers, making positive identification of the victims nearly impossible.—Bruce Hall, CBS News, New Orleans.”


“The administration’s chief…”


That same year your mother’s home country was invaded and attacked. Armies raid Beirut and assassinate three leaders. Many of our bodies are still unclaimed, still missing. To impose a moral economy with death or to enforce one post-death, it’s all quite similar.

Interior. Day.

Once more, you view two men gazing out, their stares penetrating. You view two actors lying in bed, bodies disappearing within one another—a generative act.

You pan to window. There you see the sky blazing through slots in the blinds, outlines of clouds barely visible.