scene

SCENE: MOTHER ON HER DEATH BED. HER 27 YEAR OLD SON IS BEDSIDE WITH HIS HAND IN HER WEAK HAND.

son: Is that sound true? Are her words genuine? Is that snowflake real?

mother: I don't know, son. No one ever really knows. Even a broken heart is a working barometer. It's always warm. Alive with something buried deep in the cosmos. Reach into that sky. Reach into those stars and grab something. Hold onto it tight and erase the questions from your troubled mind and appreciate the presence of the intangible. That is real. That's the only thing that's real, son.

MOTHER PASSES AWAY AS THE CAMERA SLOWLY RISES FROM HER BED TO THE TOP OF THE HOSPITAL ROOM. SON'S HEAD SLOWLY FALLS. HE WHIMPERS QUIETLY. HE THEN SLOWLY RAISES HIS HEAD TO GAZE OUT OF THE HOSPITAL WINDOW. SNOW IS FALLING.

mc