Script:
Beyond a bare, weathered, worn wall, about a hundred paces from the spot where the two friends sat looking and listening as they drank their wine, was the village of the Catalan. Long ago, this mysterious colony quitted Spain and settled on the tongue of land on which it is to this day. Whence it came no one knew, and it spoke an unknown tongue. One of its chiefs, who understood Provençal, begged the commune of Marseille to give them this bare and barren promontory where, like the sailors of old, they had run their boats ashore.
Script:
Lacey Walker loved to talk and talk and talk. Lacey, please stop talking and eat your lunch, her mother said. Lacey, less talking and more listening, her teacher said. Lacey, please stop talking, I cannot hear my movie, her brother shouted. Lacey, stop talking and brush your teeth, her father said. Nothing could make little Lacey stop talking. One Monday morning, Lacey lost her voice. She tried to whisper. She tried to shout. But nothing happened. Lacey was sad. She could not talk. So she ate her breakfast quietly. Lacey was sad on her way to school. She could not talk. So she listened to her friend tell funny jokes. Lacey was sad at school. She could not talk. So she did all her work quietly. She got a gold star for listening. That night, Lacey was not sad. She watched a movie with her brother. This movie is great, Lacey thought. After the movie, Lacey went to sleep. The next morning, Lacey woke up feeling great. She could talk. I have so much to say, but first I'm going to eat my breakfast, Lacey said with a smile. Lacey ate her breakfast quietly. Her family talked and she listened. Lacey Walker still loves to talk and talk and talk. But now she loves to listen too.
