Exterior, night, outside a bar. Howard, a man in his thirties, stands outside on the sidewalk. He watches the commotion in the bar through one of the windows. The building is made of aged wood, like it's been standing for the better part of the last century. The sources of light are what's coming from the windows and the lights on a faded sign which reads “Minerva's”.
1. HOWARD (caption): It's been nearly five years. You'd think time would make it easier to return to a place you stormed out of.
2. HOWARD (caption): It doesn't.
Interior, bar. Howard enters the bar. The interior is utter chaos. There are groups of people milling around, holding beer. People are laughing, enjoying their time. Behind the bar is a woman about two decades older than Howard. There are a few empty spots at the bar.
Howard stands awkwardly in front of the door. Cindy, a gruff looking woman in her forties, approaches Howard. She is carrying a tray of empty mugs.
3. CINDY: Hey, ain't you Minerva's boy? Howie or something?
4. HOWARD: Uh...Yeah. Howard, actually.
Cindy walks away from Howard as she shouts over her shoulder at him.
5. CINDY: Well, Howie, quit blockin' the door. Either grab a stool or a broom.
Howard sits down at the bar, a small little smile on his face.
6. HOWARD (caption): But some parts are easier than others.