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FADE IN: 

EXT. THE CLIFF - DAY 

A WOMAN, 50, dressed in white dress and a white overcoat, 19th century style, stands at the edge of the cliff. 

The sky is grey, it looks like it’s about to rain. 

The wind is strong, way stronger than her fragile body. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, and tries to balance with her feet. 

Besides from her squinting eyes, she looks neither calm nor in panic. It’s somewhere in between, a rotten feeling. 

The Woman wraps herself with her overcoat and takes another step closer to the edge. She looks down. It’s a 2,000 foot drops to the bottom, at least.

She quickly steps back and closes her eyes, trying to gather some courage. 

After a few seconds, she reopens her eyes, looks around to make sure that no one is near. Then she prepares herself. 

She comes back to the edge again, closes her eyes, prepares to jump. 

Suddenly she hears a sound buzzing at her ears. She reluctantly reopens her eyes, looking for the source of the sound.

It’s a FLY. A big black fly. 

She tries to ignore it, but the fly seems to be buzzing louder and louder against her ears. 

She tracks the fly with her eyes, up and down and around. Annoyed, she lifts her weak hand and swings toward it. She misses. 

Again, she waits for the perfect timing. The fly circles the air 10 feet away from her. She strikes again and loses her balance. 

The Woman in white falls from the cliff. 

EXT. THE BEACH - DAY 

The Woman wakes up. She slowly realizes that she is lying on the beach with her feet facing the sea. 

Strong wind turns into light breeze. The sky above her is no longer grey but light blue. 

She lays there for a bit, assessing the changes around her. 

She stands up and dusts off the sand on her dress while looking around for people or houses. 

On the narrow beach line, both directions look the same to the Woman. She chooses one direction and starts walking. 

She realizes that she is on an island in the middle of the sea as she walks further down along the shore. There’s no other islands insight, no matter how hard she tries to look for one. 

The sea stretches straight into the sky, leaving only one thin white line between them. She walks and walks on the empty island until she sees a merchant stand. 

EXT. MERCHANT STAND - DAY 

THE MERCHANT, 70, in brown linen clothes, behind the stand, under the shade. 

He organizes the products in front of him with his wrinkled fingers. He places what seems to be memorabilia or souvenirs in order.

The Woman comes up to him to take a closer look at the products. 

She recognizes the items The Merchant is selling- a heart locket, a white handkerchief, some books, some papers with written words on it, and a daguerreotype. 

The Woman frowns at the sight of it. 

WOMAN

Where did you get these from? 

The Merchant smiles but does not reply.

The Woman picks up the heart locket and he gestures for her to examine it closely. 

She opens it, realizing that it’s empty. The woman does not seem surprised. She says plainly, as if she’s talking to herself: 

WOMAN

What’s the use of an empty locket? 

The Merchant smiles innocently at his customer. 

MERCHANT

So you can put someone in it. 

The Woman closes the locket. 

WOMAN 

But I never did . . . 

She puts the locket back on the stand. 

MERCHANT

Do you wish to buy it then? 

The woman looks up at the Merchant in confusion. 

WOMAN

I think these are actually my belongings. I don’t know where you got all these. But, why would I pay for things that I already own? 

The Merchant tilts his head, thinking about the question the woman posed. Then he puts on the same smile. 

MERCHANT

Well, if that’s so, do you wish to sell it to me then?

The Woman frowns again, she looks at the things in front of her, then at the Merchant’s smiling face. 

WOMAN

I don’t see why not. 

The Woman shrugs. 

MERCHANT 

That’s wonderful. I . . .

The Woman interrupts the Merchant. 

WOMAN

But, who will ever want to buy these. I don’t want to sell you things that can’t be sold. 

The Merchant rubs his chin slowly. 

MERCHANT

How about... You sell me the stories too? 

The Woman frowns. 

The Merchant explains. 

MERCHANT  

Tell me the story behind each thing. Then I’ll be able to sell them. No one can resist a good story! 

WOMAN

Ok, if that’s what you want. 

The Woman graces her finger through the heart locket that she just put down. 

WOMAN  

You already knew about this. Probably the most valuable one. Yet, I let it sit against my heart for years, gathering dust.

The Merchant listens, silently, making no facial expression. 

The Woman then picks up the handkerchief gracefully. The handkerchief is light blue, with a daisy embroidered at the corner. 

The Woman puts her index finger against it and feels the threads. 

WOMAN

My mother gave me this. I carry it on me all the time. I think I was even carrying it when I . . . 

The Woman’s voice fades to silence.

She hears the sound of a storm against her ears. 

WOMAN 

Is there a storm coming? 

The Merchant looks out from the stand at the sky. 

MERCHANT 

I don’t think so . . .  

WOMAN

I thought I heard . . . never mind. Where was I?

The Merchant pushes the books forward. 

WOMAN

Oh! 

The Woman puts down the handkerchief, and picks up one of the books. 

WOMAN

All my life, I grew up around these books. Sometimes I feel like I even 

eat and drink from them. 

She feels the cover of the book as she flips it around carefully. She opens it and moves it closer to her nose so she can smell the papers. 

She reluctantly puts the book down. There’s a glimpse of smile on her face. 

The Woman picks up the papers with written words. She starts reading it. 

MERCHANT 

What is it? 

WOMAN 

Poems. 

MERCHANT 

Would you read me some. 

WOMAN

“As all the Heavens were a Bell, And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -” 

The Woman puts the papers back down. 

WOMAN

They were my soul, you can read the rest on your own. 

The Merchant takes the paper from her hands, carefully folds it, and places it on the table. 

The Woman’s gaze lands on the last object on the stand- a daguerreotype of a woman. Her hand hesitates. 

The Woman looks at the daguerreotype quietly. The Merchant notices it. He politely asks. 

MERCHANT 

Someone important? 

The Woman finally dare to picks up the daguerreotype, she tilts her head looking at it. 

She looks at the woman’s eyes in the picture, then she puts the daguerreotype down, holding her gaze till it touches the stand. 

The Woman looks up at the Merchant. She sighs, not regretfully, but in a sense of relief. 

WOMAN

It’s all yours now, all my keepsakes along with the memories. 

MERCHANT

Thank you, ma’am. Do you want anything in return? 

WOMAN

No. It’s fine. I don’t want to own anything anymore.

The Woman starts walking away from the stand. 

MERCHANT

Wait! 

The Merchant stops the Woman and he kneels down behind his stand. The Woman turns around and waits. 

The Merchant reappears with a RED OIL LAMP. He walks around the stand and towards the woman. He gives her the lamp. 

MERCHANT

Takes this. It’s getting dark. Give it back to me if you’re done using it. 

WOMAN 

Thanks. 

The Woman takes the lamp and nods at the old Merchant. He walks back to his stand and waves her goodbye. 

The Woman walks away. 

EXT. THE BEACH - SUNSET 

The Woman walks for a bit and realizes that she is back to the point where she started. 

She takes off her coat, spreads it on the sand, and sits down on it. She sets the oil lamp on the ground next to her. 

The sun is setting, the Woman looks at the redden horizon, and listens to the sound of the waves. 

There’s no other sound on the island beside for the waves. Even the wind has stopped. 

She looks silently at the bubbles created by the waves when it crashes down onto the earth. The bubbles appears for a few seconds, then it disappear without a trace. 

The Woman stands up and walks toward the sea. She steps through the bubbles and into the water. Her white dress floats up around her as she walk further into the sea. 

The Woman’s gaze is fixed on the setting sun. She stops. Then suddenly she lets herself falls backward into the water. 

The Woman submerges back, head first into the water, her eyes are closed, hands crossed in front of her chest. 

She is falling in slow motion underwater. 

EXT. THE CLIFF - DAY

The Woman falls down in the air from the cliff. 

EXT. THE BEACH - SUNSET 

CUT TO: 

The Woman hits the sea floor, the sand rises like a brown mist around her. 

CUT TO: 

INT. COFFIN - DAY 

The Woman lays peacefully in a coffin, the casket is closing, the light on her face is slowly disappearing. 

The casket seal shut. The Woman lays in the dark.

CUT TO: 

EXT. THE BEACH - SUNSET 

The Woman is floating face up on the water. The last bit of the sun slips away. 

EXT. THE BEACH - NIGHT 

The Woman opens her eyes and realizes that the sun is gone. She tilts her head slightly and sees the light coming from the oil lamp on the beach. 

She starts swimming towards it. 

The Woman reaches the shore. She wrings her hair and dress dry as she walks toward the lamp. She picks up her coat, covers herself with it, and sits down next to the lamp. 

She rubs her hand to keep warm as she watches the flame flickers in the dark. 

And suddenly there it is again, the BUZZING SOUND. 

The Woman is shocked, she feels a shiver down her spine, she shoots up, alarmed. 

She looks around for the fly but cannot find it. The buzz is getting louder and louder. 

She wants to cover her ears, but instead she waves her hands hopelessly in the air hoping to hit the fly. 

She is about to go get the lamp on the ground, then she stops, realizing something. 

The Woman touches her stomach. She frowns and tries to suppress the unpleasant feeling coming up her throat into her mouth. 

But she can’t help it, she makes the face as if she is going to puke but nothing comes out. 

She kneels down on the sand, tries to make herself puke by putting two fingers at the back of her tongue. 

She starts to vomit. 

Fresh dirt fell out of her mouth like puke. The Woman’s face is full of fear. 

And then a FLY flies out of her mouth, she stops puking. The woman sits on the ground, exhausted. 

The fly flies for a bit above the Woman. The Woman looks at it with her tired eyes. 

Its buzzing sound is getting quieter, and more unstable. It lands on the sand between the lamp and the woman. 

The Woman reaches out for the fly, but her eyelids are getting heavier and heavier. 

The fly buzzes one last time, and it stops, along with the sound of the flame and the sea. 

In silence, the flame is blown out by the wind.

FADE TO BLACK. 

THE END. 

Hsi's short script won first prize in SVA's Annual Writing Contest in the spring of 2022. Judges Susan Mosakowski & Edwin Rivera have this to say about Hsi's work: "This luminously written script is an excursion into the labyrinth of memory and time. Hsi's work, reminiscent of Maya Deren's experimental oeuvre, is visually exciting and emotionally affecting." Hsi is a Taiwanese filmmaker, visual artist and screenwriter based in NYC who is majoring in Film at the School of Visual Arts.