GRACE
Fine.
He sighs.
MICHAEL
You need--
GRACE
You know, seriously--
MICHAEL
Grace--
GRACE
Michael!
MICHAEL
Look, I'm only--
GRACE
You know, stop it. Just stop...The real world is not a fairy
tale. In the real world problems are not fixed by, 'oh, if only
I could meet the right guy.'
INT. MIKE'S OFFICE
MICHAEL
(mildly)
Who do you think you're talking to?
INT. GRACE'S STUDIO
GRACE
(beat)
I have...pieces missing.
MICHAEL
Yeah...well, who doesn't? Gracie, my darling girl, all
we can do, is all we can.
GRACE
(whispers)
Ever thought I'm not built for love.
MICHAEL
No.
GRACE
(louder)
I got myself--
(beat)
I've been land-locked too long.
MICHAEL
So tomorrow, you'll get on a train. And Come. Home.
GRACE
Can't. I've got a lecture the day after.
He laughs.
GRACE
Was looking forward to this one, thank you.
MICHAEL
Brilliant insight, heh?
GRACE
I thought I'd try out some new material on a live audience.
GRACE
Live?
GRACE
And your students are all bright-eyed?
MICHAEL
They are actually. But then, I teach a core course.
GRACE
Brag away Big Dog.
MICHAEL
The usual?
GRACE
Yes, please.
Michael takes down a record and goes back to his chair. He puts it on, Billie Holiday sings and Michael sings along.
The music plays, Grace lays in her chair, the phone to her ear, eyes open.
INT. LECTURE HALL - EARLY AFTERNOON
Grace speaks before her class. She is intent, passionate. A student listens to music on an unseen mp3 player; another
is texting.
HANDSOME STUDENT and his POSSE, sit talking about Grace.
GRACE
Finally...I wish all of you a good holiday and that you carve
out for yourselves a little peace and quiet.
Grace steps behind the podium and gathers papers, then stuffs them into her shoulder bag. The rectangular white box peeks out of the top.
INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE OF GRACE'S OFFICE - DAY
A nervous-looking ASSISTANT watches Grace attempt to lock the door without her keys. She swears under her breath and goes back inside to look for them.
YOU ARE READING
The Difficult Hour: Original Screenplay
Random"It well may be that in a difficult hour, Pinned down by pain and moaning for release, Or nagged by want past resolution's power, I might be driven to sell your love for peace..." from the sonnet LOVE IS NOT ALL, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
