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Wednesday, April 13, 2016

[Mid-term] Faris Hardiyan - The Sniper (Drama)

The Sniper
By Liam O’Flaherty
The long June twilight faded into night. Dublin lay enveloped in darkness but for the dim light of the moon that shone throufh fleecy clouds, casting a pale light as of approaching dawn over the streets and the dark waters of the Liffey. Around the beleaguered Four Courts the heavy guns roared. Here and there through the city, machine guns and rifles broke the silence of the night, spasmodically, like dogs barking on lone farms. Republicans and Free Staters were waging civil war.
On a rooftop near O’Connell Bridge, a Republican sniper lay watching. Beside him lay his riffle and over his shoulders were slung a pair of field glasses.
[Eat sandwich then drink a flask of whiskey and smoke his cigarette doubtly]
S          : [whispering to himself] I have to take out those bastard. [crawled away to the left of parapet]
[peered over the parapet] [bullet pass over his head]
S          : Damn! It almost hit my head. Those bastard are on the other side of this road.
He rolled over the roof to the chimney stack in the rear, and slowly drew himself up behind it, until his eyes were level with the top of the parapet. There was nothing to be seen. His enemy was under cover.
[an armored car came across the bridge and advanced slowly up the street. It stop on the opposite side of the street, fifty yards ahead.]
S          : [heart beat faster] No, It was useless. My bullet won’t break those steel.
[From round the corner of a side street came an old woman, her head covered by a tattered shawl. She talk with the man in the turret of the car and pointing the roof where the sniper lay.]
[turret opened]
S          : I have to hit them! [raised his rifle and fired]
S          : I hit the woman. [saw woman fell with a shriek into the gutter]
[ A shot rang out from the opposite roof and hit the sniper]
S          : [dropped his riffle] ah, I’m hit!
[the blood was oozing through his sleeve, he crawled back to the parapet.]
S          : I couldn’t feel my left fore arm.
[take out his knife and ripped open the sleeve.]
S          : Ah! The bullet had loged the bone. It must have fractured it. [bent his arm below the wound and ground his teeth]
[broke the neck of iodine bottle and drip the bitter fluid into the wound. Placed to cotton to wadding over the wound and wrapped thee dressing over it and tied the ends with teeth.]
S          : It is better, but I still can’t feel my forearm. [close his eyes]
[Nursing his wounded]
S          : I have to leave this place before morning. If I want to escape safely, I have to make sure that those bastard dead. I have to hit him. [look to the oppossite roof] I can’t use my rifle, but I think I can use my revolver.
[took of his cap and placed it over the mozzle of his rifle. Then pushed the rifle slowly upwards until the caps was visible from the opposite side of the street]
[drop his left hand over the roof and let it hang lifelessly]
S          : This might make him think that I was hit. [drop the rifle then drag his hand to the roof]
[crawling to the left then peered up at the corner of the roof]
S          : It was a success. He think that he killed me because of the cap and the rifle fell. [standing before a row of chimney pots, looking across, with his head clearly silhouetted against the western sky.]
[Smiled and lifted his revolver above the edge of the parapet.]
S          : It is a hard shot in the dim light, and my right hand won’t support me. [took a steady aim with a trembled hand.]
[took a deep breath then fired.]
S          : I hit him! [see his enemy rolled over the parapet then he cry of joy]
[took the whiskey flask from his pocket and emptied it at a draught.]
S          : I have to leave this place then talk to the commander about this. [picked up his revolver and put it in his pocket then crawled down]
[reached the laneway on the street]
S          : I wandered who was those man. That was a good shot! [peered around the corner into O’Connell street taking a risk going over to have a look at him]
In the upper part of the street there was heavy firing, but around here all was quiet.
[darted across the street with a machine gun tore up the ground around him with a hail of bullets, but he escaped.]

S              : [threw himself face downward beside the corpse]  That was a lucky moment! I wondered who is this man [turned over the dead body then shocked] Oh my god, I killed my own brother.

Fhardiyan

1 comment:

  1. I think you're successful to write the script of The Sniper, yet I think in some parts you forgot to put the stage direction in the bracket.

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