Blog Post: Calum Bowden
The following is an extract from one of the screenplays that BNC17 artist Calum Bowden is currently working on.
INT. James's Apartment – Day
James's stomach makes a sharp, screeching gurgle. He spasms, resting his hand on his bellybutton.
The voice of a digital nurse with a Californian valley drawl:
If your abdominal pain is severe or recurrent or if it is accompanied by any of the following symptoms, contact your health care provider as soon as possible.
Sections of an abdomen illuminate on a rotating 3D body.
Fever; Inability to keep food down for more than 2 days; Any signs of dehydration; Inability to pass stool, especially if you are also vomiting; Painful or unusually frequent urination; The abdomen is tender to the touch...
James runs his finger up the centre of his body, his breath heavy and chopped.
The pain is the result of an injury to the abdomen –
James walks into the kitchen.
In the cold LED light of a refrigerator are several bottles of designer supplements and neat stacks of black boxes with large white numbers printed on their sides.
James takes the box labelled ‘7’.
He removes the lid and reveals a large piece of what looks like raw fish Sashimi that has been cut into a rectangle with mechanic precision and is covered in a bloody mucous.
With a pair of metal chopsticks, James attempts to grab hold of the meat. The metal sliding over the glistening surface.
Finally he grabs hold and raises the dripping flesh in the air.
Something begins to vibrate. The sashimi slips out of the chopsticks and hits the floor with a wet slap.
James looks down on it without any sign of emotion. His watch buzzes frantically.
He accepts the call:
Yes. Risk mitigation for a large capital investment.
Chopsticks slide over glistening flesh as James unsuccessfully tries to grab hold of it again.
His muscular fingers wrap around the meat. Red mucous oozing out of the clenched hand.
Another sharp gurgle.
James places the Sashimi in the sink and turns on the faucet. He washes away the red gel clinging to his fingers.
A wet, organic grind, the same noise made by James's stomach.
The meat, bathing in its bright juices, is pulled into the depths of a garbage disposal.
A thick scarlet gel bubbles up the drain.