A BOY sits underneath a tree in St. James's Park. The sun is shining, the deckchairs are filled; it's a wonderful day in London.
The boy scribbles in a notebook, watching the passers-by.
A GIRL steps out from behind the tree. She's wearing a yellow halter-top, slim dark blue jeans, and three plastic red stars in her blonde hair.
We don't care what the boy looks like. Obviously.
GIRL: Can I sit here?
The boy looks up, nods, and returns to his scribbling. The girl rubs a few leaves away with her hand and sits down, cross-legged, next to him.
He scribbles.
She looks over his shoulder.
GIRL: That's a wonderful picture!
The boy shrugs and continues to draw, making broad strokes with his pencil. The girl ruffles her hair, stands up, and walks off towards the array of deckchairs.
He looks at the now-empty spot next to him and breaks the lead in his pencil on the page.
A phone box rings on a street corner somewhere in Berlin. The ring continues as people walk by. JULIE, an American tourist with a Canadian flag patch affixed to her backpack, walks past the booth. She pauses, walks back, opens the door and picks up the phone.
JULIE: Hello?
A pause.
JULIE: Oh, it's just on the left. No, underneath the sink. Yes, that's it! Bye!
JULIE hangs up the phone and walks off the stage.