I can’t, I just can’t do it. There’s no other way Franky. Maybe she doesn’t need to die. Of course she does. Maybe there is this man who loves her so deeply, he just can’t let her go … Maybe he can save her, some how. And is that man maybe you Frank? Ruth. You can’t save her Frank. You can’t save her and still be free. I’m here about the room. No visitors after nine pm. Oh. I’m looking for a quiet place. Hemingway liked peace and quiet too. I feel … I feel like I have been here before. I doubt it, Frank and I built this place with his first royalty cheque. Oh … Frank is a writer? Frank was a writer. What did he create? Failures. Oh, you’re too harsh surely? We’ll see. I’ll take it. You’ll take what? I’ll take the room. But I haven’t even shown you the room yet or told you how much. I’ll take it. I’ll move in tonight. Elle! What’s going on? Where are you going? I can’t tell you. Elle! Look at me! I’ve racked my brain trying to figure out what I’ve done wrong. You’ve settled in well? Oh yes, I really like it here. I found a nice market last weekend down by the river. Your accent, where are you from? I’m from here. My mother took me back to France when I was small. She fell in love with my father while studying in Australia. She was a poet and he … Well, she left him. And your father? I didn’t know him. Do you have a copy of his novel? Sorry his? The novel, the … The royalty cheque … Franks novel? Oh. No. Frank hasn’t finished it. Oh … Were there others? I’d love to read his work. I studied literature at uni. No, that was it. He could never finish it. Got too tied up in the tale and lost himself in a world that didn’t exist. Hmm … Writers block. More like … What would be the opposite? Reality block. Yes. That. I dreamed of this house. It’s not an uncommon style, perhaps your grandparents lived in something similar. No, I dreamed of this house. The scratches on the floor, the chemney, the … Deja vu. Frank. What happened to him? Kitten! Where’s my little Kitten! Sweetheart! Kitten! Frank. [woman] I wondered if you would notice that we had gone. Amelie Oh … Thank God, you’re still here. The plot thickens. The plot thickens. What …? I don’t feel so well. Perhaps you should lie down. Old, Willie won’t bother. I hope you’re not allergic. Not at all. Is he …? Hemingway insisted that a writer should always rehearse his lines with a cat. Willie waited a long time for those lines to come. Hemingway? You’re thinking, The Old Man and the Sea. I’ve read it. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery. Do they? Well they do. What you believe is another thing of course. What do you believe? Didn’t Hemingway shoot his cat? Willie died of expectation. Lucky for him, this Hemingway shots himself. [voice echoing] Kitten!! Did you say something? Goodnight. Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are? What do you think Willie? … Do you remember where we are up to? [Frank] She sat down at her fathers desk and ran her fingers over the impotent keys of his dream machine, the only voice she had ever known him to have was the silent imprint of those distant hammers … a grand piano that plays a secret aria. He whispered to her in keystrokes and she whispered back in flowing ribbons of regret … [Frank] Ribbons and regret, silken consequences of a dream whose smokey fingers stretch out beyond their reach. Take flight my dove, take to the trees kitten for time has consumed me and it is coming to digest you too. I can’t kill my own creation. I can’t kill you! Yes You can’t kill me. [gasps] Mmm … Are you here to fill those pages? Maybe she doesn’t have to die. Maybe I can save her. Maybe I … I can solve it … And here we are … Again. And if he was right? Just think Ruth. This is the greatest plot twist in history. The creation kills the creator. You can both be free! I won’t finish the story for you. He was at your mercy like me, Ruth … We can’t finish your story because you won’t … I won’t leave my story Frank … It ends here Ruth. It has to. No. It won’t. You can’t make me do anything now. I am sorry Frank. But, I won’t leave my story … [grunts] No. I’ve been waiting … For Hemingway to shoot. I am Hemingway, and this is the end. Elle! Is somebody here?