bernie flips on the light. a dim overhead bulb hardly makes a dent in the gloomy surroundings. typical drab motel furnishings.
natalie's hand flips on the television. another bizarre religious service. we pull back from the screen as she tries to change the channel. just gets a whole lot of static.
bernie and natalie making love. slow, tender. natalie doesn't make with the "oh yeah, baby, you're doing great" encouragement. just some low key moans. bernie doesn't come too soon either. he outlasts sinatra through several cuts.
bernie's seated on the edge of his bed, drowning his sorrows with a bottle of gin. moonlight paints him in jail bars of shadow. natalie lingers in the b.g.
bernie enters. flips on the light. no natalie.
bernie sits watching tv, a bottle of ten high next to him on the bed. same religious channel. this time it's a mass baptism taking place on some river bank. he's about to doze off, when he hears a light rapping on the door. he cocks his head, not sure if it's the booze talking.
darkness.