From the sky, we PLUMMET to the ground below, towards somewhere in the northeast of England.
Not quite Consett, not quite Chester-le-Street --
And as we SWOOP down on the town, we’re suddenly RACING through the dimly-lit Front Street at BREAK-NECK PACE. Past a dog who arrogantly takes a pee on a nearby lamp-post. Past drunkards making out passionately in front of the local boozer. Past a girl who gets ‘em out for every passer-by at every possible opportunity... Past the hustle and bustle of the evening shoppers.
And then we stop dead --
As a figure approaches SOFTLY in the distance. Tall, dark and SOMEWHAT LANKY. He can only be described as --
And as he gets closer, his footsteps gradually get LOUDER. And suddenly he’s right on top of us, and we can make out --
A scruffy STUBBLE that defines the outline of his face. And BLUE eyes that shine back at us with a child-like curiosity... He’s young. Early twenties at oldest. Heading towards the pub for a few pints and a game of pool.
His hair is short, his smile warm and welcoming...
He introduces himself as ANDREW. 21. And he asks “Are you the one I’m looking for?”
We take a moment to COMPOSE ourselves. To consider the nature of the question. And we ask in return --
“What ARE you looking for?”
His response is short, sharp and concise.
“I’m looking for someone who makes me feel warm.”
He explains to us that for him to find such a person is a rarity. And that it takes a particular type of girl... A girl with confidence and charisma. With a certain charm. A certain... quirky... sense of humour.
A girl who can READ and who can WRITE MORE THAN THREE LINES OF TEXT.
A girl with no baggage, no kids, and PLEASE DEAR GOD PLEASE -- no troublesome ex husbands.
“That’s what I’m looking for,” he says softly... “Could that person be you?"