horus disrobes down to his t-shirt and briefs. he stands before the closet mirror, scrutinizing the emaciated, sand-kicked-in- the-face body.
horus, in full uniform - dark blue pants, shirt.
aaron's room, his nightlight the only source of light. mary sits on the bed, by her son.
mary swallows. starts in on the tune.
aaron, succumbing to his mother's song - his lids flutter.
horus, in his bed - smothered in slumber. he begins to stir, wrestling some unseen dream. he wakes, in defeat.
through the dim of light - horus, alone, prepares for work. a framed photograph of a distinguished man sits on the shelf inside the closet - he poses in full police regalia, stern and proud. horus pauses to acknowledge the photograph. he closes the closet door.
the room is dark, of course. a bed - as the squeaking of springs suddenly stops. a woman's voice says.
aaron's bedroom. mary -.on the bed, rocking aaron to sleep as she finishes off a familiar melody.
mary. aaron.