Epilogue:
He walks inside his apartment and locks the door behind. He stops to reflect and looks around the living room. He takes a deep breath and walks towards the kitchen. He stops and looks outside his window then proceeds calmly into his bedroom.
He opens his closet doors and pulls out a box from the back. He takes it to his bed and sits down on it. As he opens it, he takes the lid and puts it beside him on the mattress. He takes out a small digital, recording camera and opens it. After viewing his recordings he deletes its contents and walks out of the room. He takes the camera to his armchair and sits down. He puts it open on the table and fiddles with it, trying to get it poised in the right angle.
After noticing that the height is to low, he stands up and walks to the nearby book shelf and picks out Dante's 'Divine Comedy'. He stares, deep in thought, at the book as memories flood his mind. He walks back to the armchair and sits down, putting the camera over the book to give it height. He twists the lens while looking at himself on the screen, then presses the "Record" button and leans back straight on his seat.
Wes: (to the camera) "I, um, ahem I suppose I should... explain... everything." (pauses) "I can't. As much as I want to, I can't. There's not much time before I have to go." (pauses) "So... I can't."
He takes a moment and rubs his eyes with both hands and takes a deep breath.
Wes: "I only hope that you can forgive me... for what I'm going to do. I wish I could tell you now before it... ahem but I can't... I'm sorry." (pauses, then to himself in a whisper) "God, I wish I could--" (looks at the camera) "I, uh, ahem want you to take care of yourself. No matter what you do be careful. You're the only one I trust... you have earned that."
He takes another deep breath and looks straight into the camera for several seconds in complete silence. He bites his lips and arches his back.
Wes: "By the time you get this you won't be able to contact me. I'll have moved on." (pauses) "I'll contact you when the time is right... till then it's doubtful that we'll see each other." (pauses) "I'm sending you the time and place we'll meet along with this. I'll be there... I just... I just hope you'll be there as well."
He looks over the camera and through the windows, then takes off his wrist watch and holds it in his hand.
Wes: "That is all. I trust you'll keep this to yourself." (takes a five second pause, then looking away from the camera) "Take care of her. That's all I ask. She'll mend in time, but she'll need a place to rest."
He puts his hand over the camera and it stops filming. He picks it up and walks towards the dinner table. He puts it in a brown mailing-box and takes a look at his watch. He puts it inside the box beside the camcorder and closes it. He seals the box then reads the label. After a quick draw of fresh air, he walks back towards the door of his apartment and opens it.
He takes a final look around, then turns off the lights with the nearby light-switch. He turns around and walks out. Never to be seen by those walls again. . .
He walks inside his apartment and locks the door behind. He stops to reflect and looks around the living room. He takes a deep breath and walks towards the kitchen. He stops and looks outside his window then proceeds calmly into his bedroom.
He opens his closet doors and pulls out a box from the back. He takes it to his bed and sits down on it. As he opens it, he takes the lid and puts it beside him on the mattress. He takes out a small digital, recording camera and opens it. After viewing his recordings he deletes its contents and walks out of the room. He takes the camera to his armchair and sits down. He puts it open on the table and fiddles with it, trying to get it poised in the right angle.
After noticing that the height is to low, he stands up and walks to the nearby book shelf and picks out Dante's 'Divine Comedy'. He stares, deep in thought, at the book as memories flood his mind. He walks back to the armchair and sits down, putting the camera over the book to give it height. He twists the lens while looking at himself on the screen, then presses the "Record" button and leans back straight on his seat.
Wes: (to the camera) "I, um, ahem I suppose I should... explain... everything." (pauses) "I can't. As much as I want to, I can't. There's not much time before I have to go." (pauses) "So... I can't."
He takes a moment and rubs his eyes with both hands and takes a deep breath.
Wes: "I only hope that you can forgive me... for what I'm going to do. I wish I could tell you now before it... ahem but I can't... I'm sorry." (pauses, then to himself in a whisper) "God, I wish I could--" (looks at the camera) "I, uh, ahem want you to take care of yourself. No matter what you do be careful. You're the only one I trust... you have earned that."
He takes another deep breath and looks straight into the camera for several seconds in complete silence. He bites his lips and arches his back.
Wes: "By the time you get this you won't be able to contact me. I'll have moved on." (pauses) "I'll contact you when the time is right... till then it's doubtful that we'll see each other." (pauses) "I'm sending you the time and place we'll meet along with this. I'll be there... I just... I just hope you'll be there as well."
He looks over the camera and through the windows, then takes off his wrist watch and holds it in his hand.
Wes: "That is all. I trust you'll keep this to yourself." (takes a five second pause, then looking away from the camera) "Take care of her. That's all I ask. She'll mend in time, but she'll need a place to rest."
He puts his hand over the camera and it stops filming. He picks it up and walks towards the dinner table. He puts it in a brown mailing-box and takes a look at his watch. He puts it inside the box beside the camcorder and closes it. He seals the box then reads the label. After a quick draw of fresh air, he walks back towards the door of his apartment and opens it.
He takes a final look around, then turns off the lights with the nearby light-switch. He turns around and walks out. Never to be seen by those walls again. . .