Kleinzeit

The Sack

‘How’s it going?’ said the Creative Director from between his sideburns.

‘I think I’ve got it,’ said Kleinzeit from under his dandruff. ‘We open on a man pushing a barrow full of rocks. No music, just the sound of his breathing and the creaking of the barrow and the sound of the rocks bumping along. Then we move in for a close-up. Big smile as he takes a tube of Bonzo out of his pocket, holds it up, doesn’t say a word. What do you think?’

The Creative Director sat down in his tight trousers, didn’t light a cigarette because he didn’t smoke.

Kleinzeit lit a cigarette. ‘Cinema venté approach,’ he said.

‘Why a barrow full of rocks?’ said the Creative Director, ten years younger than Kleinzeit.

‘Why not?’ said Kleinzeit. He paused as the pain flashed from A to B.‘It’s as good as anything else. It’s better than a lot of things.’

‘You’re fired,’ said the Creative Director in his tapered shirt.