GENERAL:
And I’m sorry about your husband.
CLARK:
He was a good man.
GENERAL:
As were they all. Wish us luck.
CLARK:
Yes, good luck, sir.
A ROAR of another Jet Fighter SCREAMING overhead. The general exits. Clark stands there alone, with her clipboard and files – the room shudders and shakes. She takes a napkin from her pocket and mops us the coffee spilt under the general’s chair. The engine scream is deafening.
Lights down to dark.
End.
93