Nobody Is Higher Than Me

Calypso's place — soft light, warm haze, a low couch that has swallowed a hero. Time has gone strange: a calendar on the wall sheds pages in the draft, a beard has crept up OZZY's jaw. CALYPSO drifts around him, gentle, unhurried, blowing a slow curl of the "leaf" into his face whenever a thought threatens to form. She is not cruel. That's the worst of it. She's lonely, and she's found someone to keep.

OZZY floats. He watches colors that aren't there. Somewhere very far away, a single gold porch light flickers, alone.

THE FLICKER (the thing the haze can't bury)

OZZY (a sudden strange pang through the smoke) — ...there was a... a light. A gold one. On a porch. And a... (he almost has it) ...a Penny? A pretty... somethin'...

CALYPSO (quick, another slow puff) — Shh. Breathe, Nobody. There's nobody. Just breathe.

OZZY (the memory dissolving) — ...just... breathe... (gone) ...nobody's higher than me.

Button. Ozzy drifts off smiling, empty — "king of a couch and a cloud and a company of one." Then, asleep, from somewhere the leaf can't reach: a whisper. "...home." CALYPSO hears it. Something crosses her face — not triumph. Guilt.

CALYPSO (softly, almost to herself) — ...that's it, Nobody. Nobody's higher. And nobody's ever leaving. (a beat — the doubt, the loneliness) ...are you?

Blackout. Even the haze can't fully bury it. Far away, the gold light flickers on, alone, waiting — and now we know: so does something in him.