Stella was in her bedroom, moving closely to the wardrobe beside the bed. She was crying, no, weeping. What was rolling down her troubled cheeks were not normal tears, they seem extraordinary. The deep green, brown, red substance was all over her face. She was trembling as she moved closer and closer to the wardrobe.
She got hold of the rail and shook it hard, as if that would stop her tears. The rail refused to move, the force of her hand was nothing but out of place. She was profoundly tired, every part of her body was painful. She could not do anything to help herself, she had to keep standing.
The door of the room bombed open, Silas dashed into the room. The atmosphere changed; it became hot - the air conditional, her eyes flashed, her soul wailed, her mind flexed, her knees knelt.
"Please.....dear. Please Silas. It wasn't my fault, it wasn't, i swell..... It was the pot, i stood by it just like you said i should - the thing just keep getting the rice burnt. Please ...try to understand. I'll make another, i'll buy........"
Silas eyes were red, he wasn't ready for more of her words. He raised up his hands and slapped her face. She was down, the atmosphere turned dark.
Someone behind the scene clapped his hands.... Five minutes before, the man behind the camera had said, "Action."
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