Bare feet crack golden leaves. Legs caked with mud tremble. Tattered skirt whips in the winds. Frilly blouse torn to bandage gaping wounds.

One still bleeds leaving a trail of red drops behind.

Dry lips scratch the tongue darting out in a vain attept to hydrate. Golden eyes wide in the darkness. Beads of sweat trickle down a pale temple, coat shoulders and the tops of…

Dark curls fallen. The pins holding them back left behind.

Pounding heartbeat. Ragged breath.

A noise from behind. She whirls.

A scream.

“Cut! Margaret, get to costumes. The sweat has rendered the tape useless. I want to see nipple through the cotton, not above it. Fix it and get back. We have to do it again.”