1:38:01
Write! With these hands?
And a brain that's all out of focus?
1:38:03
It'll clear up again. You'll be well.
1:38:04
And I'll be sitting there staring at that white sheet, scared.
1:38:07
No you won't. You've forgotten what it feels like to be well.
1:38:10
- What am I gonna write about? What?
- What you've always wanted to write.
1:38:14
Where was the page I found?
1:38:16
"The Bottle. A Novel by Don Birnam,"
1:38:19
What was that to be?
1:38:20
About a messed-up life. About a man and a woman and a bottle.
1:38:23
About nightmares, horrors, humiliations,
all the things I want to forget.
1:38:27
Put it all down on paper. Get rid of it that way.
1:38:29
Tell it all, to whom it may concern.
1:38:32
And it concerns so many people, Don.
1:38:34
Yeah.
1:38:36
I'll fix us some breakfast.
1:38:39
We have quite a supply of milk.
1:38:44
You'll notice I didn't even find a first line.
1:38:47
Course you couldn't write the beginning
because you didn't know the ending.
1:38:50
Only now...
1:39:09
Only now you know the ending.
1:39:14
I'm gonna send one copy to Bim,
one to the doctor who loaned me his coat, and one to Nat.
1:39:21
Imagine Wick standing in front of a book store.
1:39:23
A great big pyramid of my books.
1:39:26
A Novel by Don Birnam.
1:39:28
"That's by my brother, you know."
1:39:30
That's by my fellow. Didn't I always tell you?
1:39:33
I'm going to put this whole weekend down, minute by minute.
1:39:36
Why not?
1:39:37
The way I stood in there, packing my suitcase...
1:39:40
Only my mind wasn't on the suitcase,
1:39:43
and it wasn't on the weekend,
1:39:45
nor was it on the shirts I was putting in the suitcase either.
1:39:50
My mind was hanging outside the window.
1:39:53
It was suspended just about eighteen inches below...
1:39:57
And out there in that great big concrete jungle,