[Scene: a row of apartment buildings with a line of thin trees growing out of the sidewalk in front of them. probably elms. wind blows continually along the street. ghosts are hidden in the trees, whickering.]

1 AM:

[a third story window slams up]

SHANNON: [testily] Knock it off, would you? Some of us have to work in the morning!

[the ghosts get quieter. slam goes the window]

2 AM:

[the ghosts are in full cry. slam goes the window]

SHANNON: [yelling] SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!

[slam goes the window. the ghosts get a little quieter]

3 AM:

[the ghosts are louder than ever. slam goes the window]

SHANNON: [quietly, viciously] If you motherfuckers don’t shut the fuck up right fucking now I will personally climb that tree and re-murder each and every one of you with a knife. I will cut you so fucking small fucking Heisenberg couldn’t put you back together again. I have the knife right here, fuckers. Don’t fucking mess with me.

[the ghosts fall silent. the window slides shut]

4 AM:

[the ghosts are back. slam goes the front door. Shannon starts climbing the tree with a knife in her teeth. the ghosts slip away one by one as she climbs, not quickly. they look like trash caught in the wind: gas station receipts, plastic shopping bags, magazine inserts. there is only one ghost left when Shannon gets to the top.]

SHANNON: [grabs the ghost, which looks like a torn bus pass] Got you, you little shit. I warned you bastards, didn’t I? Didn’t I?

[the ghost shakes in her hand. it whickers softly, not fearfully. alone the noise is quiet and almost soothing.]

SHANNON: [her voice trembles, cracks. she is exhausted] Didn’t I, you son of a bitch? Didn’t I say?

[the ghost goes still in her hand as she raises the knife. the wind dies down. fade lights. in the darkness the sound of the knife striking the tree trunk.]