Summer. Manhattan. A young, homeless FEMALE (maybe redhead) enters, pulling her belongings (on wheels) behind her. She stops to search a trash can for some treasure, finds none, and walks on. Part way down the block she is stopped by a female TV REPORTER, accompanied by her male cameraman.
REPORTER
Miss? May we talk with you?
FEMALE
Cheers.
REPORTER
Are you having a good day?
FEMALE
Every day’s a good day to have a good day, thank you.
REPORTER
Any words of street wisdom? For our viewers?
FEMALE
Friends. Remember:
There’s nothing new under the sun that lasts forever. Not even virus.
REPORTER
Anything else?
FEMALE
Pointing at her ears.
To mine ears, butchers hook, me Mum oft times said,
right down to her ante-penultimate breath:
If you cross-eye a glass of a wine when ‘twas red,
be prepared for a fate worse than death….
About the last thing I remember her telling me.
Except she loved me.
Cwtches.
I’m from Wales, you know. Me Mum was.
And here’s me Valentine.
Pulls a red cut heart out of a white envelope from her pocket, waves it over her head, and puts it back.
Do you know what day today is?
REPORTER
No.
FEMALE
Today is the day I bought myself a Summer Valentine.
For Dydd Santes Dwynwen Haf.
‘Cause yesterday I found me Valentine.
Walking in the rain. Taking his shirt off. Here. In Manhattan.
Just talking about how air conditioning is Hell’s way of ruining our health.
And rain is Heaven’s way of giving us muddy puddles.